Theatre of Hate - My Own Invention | Текст песни

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• Theatre of Hate
• My Own Invention

Mary Bell, we wish you well
A new life, outside in our hell
Yorkshire Jack, a living will,
I’m thinking, for us he acts
Idi Amin, the papers you’re in
They’ll pay money for your memoirs

The thousand pays in a thousand ways
Whichever will

Time to play

Son of Sam, the American lamb
Upon whose alter, you’ll slaughter
Charlie Manson, diseased and handsome
Best wishes, the fan club
Raymond Fernandez loves Martha Beck
Love’s love letters, profane his gaze.

The thousand pays in a thousand ways
Whichever will

Time to pla

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