О себе:
Them poor souls
They sang
Were all goin to hell
We going to hell anyways
So jus
Pick up your glass
Put on your prom dress
An lets get merry
Down and down we go
Upon the blood soaked ferry
O ye sweet sweet, beautiful, powdered up dolly
Thus !
and thus ! i say
thru fleet of foot
or burning sea
down and down we go
our lives between our fingers
our dreams between our hearts
flowing oh so gently
gently but surely
but ohh~ so gently indeed