SWEET NEEDLES OF SUCCESS
The circus is full of smoke after all these years
Some were good, some were bad, didn’t know what I was about to start
When I started
Though I wrote it all down
God, I was so naive!
When you’re on the show, you’ve got to shoot not to sing
When you’re on the show, you have to shoot not to sing
Wasn’t it worth, anyway, twelve years, six were good, six were bad
Twenty thousand songs in my head and a toast to all the pimps in the world:
«Here’s to you
Hey-hey, here’s to you...!
Till the last bullet’s fired
Welcome, sweet needles of success
Here’s to you! You got to shoot not to sing
Welcome, customers, whores, I still got my gun...!
I still got my gun
Look, I point at you!»
There’s a shadow on the target, I guess you call it future
And the fingertip-orchestras sounded like spirit rapping on the radio
The day the y sold the music for less than a soul to a
Full-playback-pop-music-teenage-hero
Here’s to you! Sweet needles of success
Welcome, customers, whores, I still got my gun!
Here’s to you!
You got to shoot not to sing, I still got some shots inside
Welcome, sweet needles of success
Take me home, take me home
Oh, sweet needles of success
Here I go
Into the dry ice fog