she feels life's a dollnshe feels life's a dollnshe feels life's a dollnon firennwe don't believe in a hurly burlynhe stays out late, and he wakes up earlyngnaws off his necknbad thoughts in his headnhe takes off his shoesnand he feels so goodnnwe don't believe in a god of mercynthe only god we know is the keeper of catsnso get the fireworks outncram them down in his mouthnhe burns brighter inside hernngimme what you gotnthe undertowngimme what you gotndon't blow your loadngimme what you gotnwho cares what they say?nyou'll paynngimme what you gotnthe undertowngimme what you gotndon't blow your loadngimme what you gotnwho cares what they say?nyou'll paynnwe don't believe in the mother or fathernbut it runs in the bloodlinenthat's the source of the problemnhe saws off his armsnhe lobs off his legsnhe trades in the gutternbut he's still got his headnnand that's the programnthe selfish load whennall of the buttons nare properly pushed innit's all the ragenhe's a tectonic platenhe burns brighter inside hernnthis ain't no love songnthis ain't no love songnthis ain't no love songnthis ain't no love songnnshe feels life's a dollnshe feels life's a dollnshe feels life's a dollnnon fire