when i go to a nightclub, i know that i might rubna couple people the wrong way with my white glovesnbut under a blacklight, they begin to glowni seek to re-kindle flames insides those that are out therenmaking the scene, makin' it seem likenfake reality is the same as living your dreamsnnwhen i preen myself and put an outfit togetherni consider mean-spirited vendetta's to unleash at social eventsnthe forsake, free cake, for pretensennneon jamboree's beyond pleasantriesnthat's what i seek, that's what i rarely seenstare at me and get your eyelashesnblasted off by phosphorous flashesnfrom my magic kit, now imagine itnto be less passive, more passionately activenspectacular adaptive talents put to usenprevent collapsesnnthey hope we think we count on them to think what's best for usnthey count on hope, we count on what we knownand that is all we trustnnheretics once put to death for being rightnpossess our flesh tonightnwe rise beyond belief in simple faith in sorcerynthe source of heat that fuels our motionnburning brighter as we gonwith every sense alive, we shall not sleep 'til we arrivenwe seek to know [x4]