This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
You can buy her, you can buy her
This one's here, this one's here
This one's here, and this one's here
Everything's for sale
For sale?
Dumb cunt's same dumb questions
Virgins?
Listen, all virgins are liars honey
And I don't know what I'm scared of or what I even enjoy
Dulling, get money, but nothing turns out like you want it to
And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For £200 anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want
I eat and I dress and I wash and I still can say thank you
Puking, shaking, sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, hurt myself to get pain out
I 'T' them, 24/7, all year long
Purgatory's circle, drowning here, someone will always say yes
Funny place for the social, for the insects to start caring
Just an ambulance at the bottom of a cliff
In these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For 200 pounds anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want, if you want
I eat and I dress and I wash and I can still say thank you
Puking, shaking, sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, I hurt myself to get pain out
Power produces desire, the weak have none
There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty
Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment
The only certain thing that is left about me
There's no part of my body that has not been used
Pity or pain, to show displeasure's shame
Everyone I've loved or hated always seems to leave
And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For 200 pounds anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want, if you want
Power produces desire, the weak have none
There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty
Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment
Don't hurt, just obey, lie down, do as they say
May as well be heaven this hell, smells the same
These sunless afternoons I can't find myself
This one's here, this one's here
This one's here, and this one's here
Everything's for sale
For sale?
Dumb cunt's same dumb questions
Virgins?
Listen, all virgins are liars honey
And I don't know what I'm scared of or what I even enjoy
Dulling, get money, but nothing turns out like you want it to
And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For £200 anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want
I eat and I dress and I wash and I still can say thank you
Puking, shaking, sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, hurt myself to get pain out
I 'T' them, 24/7, all year long
Purgatory's circle, drowning here, someone will always say yes
Funny place for the social, for the insects to start caring
Just an ambulance at the bottom of a cliff
In these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For 200 pounds anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want, if you want
I eat and I dress and I wash and I can still say thank you
Puking, shaking, sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, I hurt myself to get pain out
Power produces desire, the weak have none
There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty
Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment
The only certain thing that is left about me
There's no part of my body that has not been used
Pity or pain, to show displeasure's shame
Everyone I've loved or hated always seems to leave
And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For 200 pounds anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want, if you want
Power produces desire, the weak have none
There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty
Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment
Don't hurt, just obey, lie down, do as they say
May as well be heaven this hell, smells the same
These sunless afternoons I can't find myself
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Great version of a great song,
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Don't mean to be sadistic, but it's actually 'tear' off his cock, not chop. Ouch.