You were right all along. The night's never dark enough. Queen of the undressed - that's what I'm talking about. It's the trite in your hit parade, without any doubt. It's the musk in your masquerade that's making me shout. I wanna launch an attack. You're only good when you're on your back. We do it all to please. Listen to the radio burn obscene. Wear a nice dress to bed, we'll paint ourselves grey and pretend we're dead. Yeah, pretend we're dead. Yeah, until we're dead. Yeah, 'til we're dead.