All the gentry
Are counting plebs
To fall asleep
A murky scene
Time magazine
A virgin's dream
The devil you know
The devil you don't
The devil on the phone
When it was mysterious
Everything seemed a shade of gold on green
The beauty queen
Was not foreseen
To be unclean
She didn't know
The cable tow
Was around her throat
The devil you know
The devil you don't
The devil on the phone
When it was mysterious
Everything seemed a shade of gold on green
After all is said and done
We'll all go crash into the sun