Whiskey is alright in its place, but its place is by Fear Before The March Of Flames
I am the street peddlers miracle juice.
Do I hear? Do I hear?
(Numbers) Buyer in the balcony section
Sold to the vampire and his lovely
If integrity were a wooden spike
we'd all be f**ked.
Push the corpse into the gutter.
We'd say to one another.
These smart-ass children had it coming.
These clones drone along to their power
This is our lives watched by the auctioneer.
If we're going out to dance they're p**sing
on our disco halls.
You're up for sale.
The plan of action is upsell.