The moon is fighting its loosing battle with the never-ending fog
That has fallen upon this place of greed
I watch them all as they walk around in their worn out designer clothes
They look and act so happy and honest
When in fact all they radiate is their stone cold ambition
In their ignorance they don’t seem to notice
That they are all dead…

I like it down here
All this fresh souls to eat
All this fresh souls to torment
And drown in the boiling oil of despair
For eternity…

Oh how I miss the old days when things were harder to get
But so much sweeter once you got them