See their faces in magazinesnRunning down the highways of your dreamsnHowling at the sickly silver moonnThe plaques would bemoan your grave soon.nnAlways a face in the crowdnGathers when the stars are outnAlways in the audiencenWith their t-shirts of the innocentnnCan you see them?nYou could be themnOver there a jolly bunchnAnd they're coming after younnBut if you give into themnYou will become one of themnSo much fun, nCan't we come to the vampire party with you?nnAlways by the side of the roadnRushing passing lanes at nightnHidden in the corners of the roomnHigh above the glare of your flood lightnnListen to their voices in the gloomnWhispering their words devoid of truthnSee them sitting on a fencenCroaking like crooks in the windnnCan you see themnYou could be themnOver there in that giant bush and there coming after younnBut if you give into themnYou will become one of themnSo much fun, nCan't we come to the vampire party with you?