Album: Les 150 Passions Meurtrières (2000)

On The Prowl

Prowl the streets, prowl this filth
Heading for the strip where the night times's out
Looking for some action
Inside my brain, it's a burning hell
Wasted faces, wretched lives
Pathetic tool, worthless piece of meat
Celebrate their failure
Clandestine lust, private pleasures

In this sickness I come alive
In this decay I indulge
In this cesspool I wallow
In this sickness I come alive

Came to look down, to wallow
Come on cunt, swallow
Come on honey, get down
Down for pleasure

In your weakness I wallow
It's your failure I wallow
In your destruction I wallow
In this sickness I come alive
Prowl - reap the pleasures of new sadism

It never ceases to entertain
A cheap kick at their expense
A quick fix of reality

You, yes you
You're the one I choose
It's your lucky day
You'll get no sympathy