Pimps

They used hysterical reactions

Don't make, feel contentment son

hideous, grotesque ideas

They don't make this time a happy one

happy one...

happy one...

Get myself so broken in the great twilight

to the end of the eclipse

again I'll topple that mirror down

and it hasn't shattered ever

ever... ever.

All my dreams come true at last

pinch me if apathy please

superstition towards everything

but we live still by the power of the stars

the power of the stars...

the power of the stars...

You know saints and angels

and martyrs and pimps

You know saints and angels

and martyrs and pimps