Slithering towards the dream, all infected with the same disease,awaiting your flesh to be cloaked in silver. As the fatrats grovel, ready to steal your innocence and exploit your soul. Some will hit their knees in a rancid act of desparation while others search for a hopless god to save them. For every four, there will be 100,000 fallen, drowning in a cesspool of awareness that they have failed. This city full of plastic angels will seduce you.....(copy right Motley Crue)