Roaming the plains
where a number is your name
in a palace
and you'll never find the door
oh look into the mirror
is it what you wanna see
or just a cuddle toy
the vogue has washed ashore
no i don't care what you say
into the darkness i plough my way
i'm striking out for paradise
to be the one i am
we're going down to the devil
we are striking out for paradise
to bedlam below - down to the devil
the mad parade is comming home
can't you hear the sound
as they make the hammer pound
rusty nails into a coffin of your size
to bury you alive
you mature until you're ripe
then they reap you
when you're beautiful enough
in their eyes
they lurk to wall in your belief
put up glass ceilings that you can't see
to break down the freak
they don't want you to be
we're going down to the devil...
oh we're going down
here's your invitation, your instignation
your damnation to the hellfire club