Roaming the plains
Where a number is your name
In a palace
And you'll never fin the door
Oh look into the mirror
Is it what you wanna see
Or just a cuddy toy
The vogue has washed the 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 [bad word] home

Can't you hear the sound
As they make the hammer pound [bad word] nails into a coffin of you 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 you to be

We're going down to the devil
We are striking out for paradise
To bedlam below - down to the devil
The mad parade [bad word] home

Oh we're going down

Here's your invitation, your instigation
Your damnation to the hellfire club