Quentin Tarantula

Out of control, out of control
Just another wild night
Car is pulling up, someone's getting out, wearing fancy clothes
Have another glass just before you sign
Devil's in the details
Get into the stage, it's time to pretend

Read the talking points to the starving souls
Just another nightmare
Take another shot, we can track your soul
For a modest price
Screaming at the ground, jumping all around
Here is armageddon
Thank you for your time, here is your award
Goodbye

So tell me am I worthy of your time?
Your autograph?
Just something for the barefoot working class
The pedestal you're standing on has broke
You're about to fall
You got more sick and twisted than before
Than before

There is no shame in the hollywood game
There is no shame in the hollywood game
There is no shame in the hollywood game
There is no shame in the hollywood game



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