Men on strings and fancy things
Are going for the city fling
we'll sell our souls, sell our souls
city streets and city beats
are in between city sheets
we'll sell our souls, sell our souls
I am unrest, deep inside
I hate this place, want to hide
but I've sold my soul, sold my soul
The man in charge, wearing black
he speaks to me, says to me,
you think, therefore, you will fall