This metaphor of pain I say: "You twist the knife in me" Some free money would be welcome, tons of sex and guns When this city burns to ground I hope it'll be tomorrow And I wouldn't mind that the fire would catch the next in line I'm afraid the others aren't dead Yeah, I'm afraid the others are not dead All you artists write on you lap of saving the world It's already too late to take actions, white trash girl Saving earth is gone, think we should concentrate On wiping our ass from these days, to lengthen our death I'm afraid the others aren't dead Yeah, I'm afraid the others are not dead If there's someone out there that sees They don't want to be seen If earth was the final place to be Hope that someone puts me to sleep I'm afraid the others aren't dead Yeah, I'm afraid the others are not dead