Pump that stereo,
come on let's get nasty,
light's out, here we go,
I love it when you're filthy.
Hands up, hit the dirt,
come on let's get nasty,
I swear it won't hurt,
I'm gonna rock your world.
Equalize, conceptualize,
read the beat between the lines,
let the rhythm be the martyr,
marching on your paranoia.
Drums in your head, kick made of lead,
ride the rhythm straight to bed,
an overdose of undertones,
arpeggiator overthrows.
Everything that you can hear,
your speakers whisper crystal clear,
a goth rock shock sparks you with fear,
the nightclub rocks when you get here.
At the end, the lights go out,
everybody scream and shout,
you ask your dancing partner out,
to get more nasty.
Pump that stereo,
come on let's get nasty,
light's out, here we go,
I love it when you're filthy.
Hands up, hit the dirt,
come on let's get nasty,
I swear it won't hurt,
I'm gonna rock your world.
In the eyes of god we can be obscene,
but I sold my soul to a drum machine,
let's get new romantic, electric and tragic,
let me slice your chest up and remix your heartbeat.
