Another Tale - Dancehouse Flair | Текст песни

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• Another Tale
• Dancehouse Flair

Oh, I hate these crippled minds

Too sweet to think, dumb and blind

Filled with yuppie-dreams

Swimming with the stream

Sex, drugs, dancehouse-flair

A bitter taste in the air

Better than the rest

You are the best



Styled to death, ice in the air

Have a taste of dancehouse-flair

We do not think, we do not care

Let s have a taste

Of dancehouse-flair



I d like to make you disappear

I d like to teach you how to fear

Yes there s more than bugs

Money, sex and drugs

I meet you when I walk around

Over bloody rich-man s grounds

On every scene

Now in my dreams



Styled to death....



Maybe you will rule this land

With just a single hand

But this shiny world you want to rent

Will be built on sand

I ve tried to find

Nice words for you

But this hate-song

Was all I could do

Cause you re



Styled to death...


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