Sweet dreams are made of this Who am I to disagree? Travel the world and the seven seas Everybody's looking for something Some of them want to use
In the wasteland on the way to the Red Queen... It's no wonder our stage Clothes Have dreams to be famous The trees in the Courtyard Are painted in Blood
Your own personal jesus Someone to hear your prayers Someone who cares Your own personal jesus Someone to hear your prayers Someone who?s there Feeling
(feat. Sneaker Pimps) I want to fly into your sun Need faith to make me numb Live like a teenage christ Im a saint, got a date with suicide Oh Mary,
Today I am dirty I want to be pretty Tomorrow, I know I'm just dirt Today I am dirty I want to be pretty Tomorrow, I know I'm just dirt We are the nobodies
I?m a kick stand in your mouth And i?m the tongue?s slamming on the brakes Pull the choke in Pull the choke in as hard as it will take. All your pictures
I don't want you and I don't need you don't bother to resist, I'll beat you It's not your fault that you're always wrong the weak ones are there to
Bonus Track
Bonus Track I am so all American,Sell you suicide I am totalitarian, I've got abortions in my eyes I hate the hater, , I'd rape the raper I am not the
Doll-dagga buzz-buzz ziggety-zag Godmod grotesk burlesk drag All the goose-step girlies with Their cursive faces and We know it's all Braille beneath
I am overground and Out-selling IT. Since God thinks I don't exist The Beatings happen Per Minute This is not Blue-collar-white-corrective politics I
All our monkeys have monkeys We drive our deathcrush diamond Jaguar limousines We're not fantastic motherfuckers, but we play them on TV. It's A Dirty
I don't care if your world is ending today I wasn't invited to it anyway You said I tasted famous, so I drew you a heart But now I'm not an artist I'm
We're a death-marching band Peter Pan off the wagon Entertain but never trust anyone sober We're tasteless but taste good My (S)top Hat's top hat(ed)
I'll pretend that I want you For what is on the inside But when I get inside, I'll just want to get out I'm your first and last deposit Through sickness
All simple monkeys with alien babies Amphetamines for boys And crucifixes for ladies Sampled and soulless Worldwide and real webbed You sell all
Everything has been said before There's nothing left to say anymore When it's all the same You can ask for it by name Babble babble bitch bitch Rebel