It works in two ways.
The first one I hate more than you know.
We're all a whore.
It takes one to stop one.
I think this could be fun-filled with love
and explosions and semiautomatic guns.
I've got a feeling of spite.
The conversation around me now doesn't seem right.
I've got this feeling tonight.
It's killing me.
Did you know?
Love, it goes in cycles and waves.
Most of them we hate more than we know.
Love is like war.
It's fit for the masses, divided by classes.
Indestructible by birth.
The industry was never worth it.
Love made to rock, now that sounds much better.
I'm guilty of the previous.
Isn't it obvious?