treat me like a robot for I have no conscience.
i'm not afraid of death and i'm certainly not afraid of you.
i wonder about what goes on in their minds and their lives and what brought them down the same Peter Street alley as me tonight.
touts offer me drugs and blowjobs and i turn them down because i am the most pathetic excuse for a human being there is.
nothing would stop me gutting you and playing in your blood.
i would cut you into fifteen pieces and drive your remains across all four corners of the UK.
i wouldn't give a fuck about your family alone at christmas.
as soon as i've got rid of you it wouldn't enter my fucking mind again.
but i guess that's what separates me from you.
i could quite happily slit your throat, clean up after myself and go for a leisurely drink.
conscience is a gift for those with a soul and i guess mine is filled with the relative emptiness of a black hole like a fleshlight.
conscience is a gift for those with a soul and i guess mine is filled with the relative emptiness of a black hole like a fleshlight.

inside these darkened rooms.
there exists a soul inside her.
it's not just a hole to fuck.
the hole inside her chest, where her heart used to live.
before it was fucked out.
fucked out of her by me and you.

soho walkups charge twenty to thirty pound for a ten minute fuck.
because that's how exactly much businessmen can claim on expenses.
the piss stained alleys and the piss drinking CEO that couldn't function without his weekly fucking beating.
they walk the same streets as you, whether you're fat, ugly, beautiful or blonde.
every fuckers money is good enough.
madonna drinks coke so you can too.
millionaires fuck street prostitutes and you can shoot up the same cunt as rupert murdoch.
i'm surprised i haven't killed a man yet.
the reality is i just haven't really wanted to yet.
i want to live until i'm 150 year old.
i'd rather live a life of misery rather than die at 45 being happy.
conscience is a gift for those with a soul and i guess mine is filled with the relative emptiness of a black hole like a fleshlight.
conscience is a gift for those with a soul and i guess mine is filled with the relative emptiness of a black hole like a fleshlight.

inside these darkened rooms.
there exists a soul inside her.
it's not just a hole to fuck.
the hole inside her chest, where her heart used to live.
before it was fucked out.
fucked out of her by me and you.

inside these darkened rooms.
there exists a soul inside her.
it's not just a hole to fuck.
the hole inside her chest, where her heart used to live.
before it was fucked out.
fucked out of her by me and you.