One oh nine in the sky and the pigs won’t quit?
You’re here with me, Dr. Death Defying.
I’ll be your surgeon, your proctor, your helicopter,
Pumping out the slaught-o-matic sounds to keep you alive.
A system failure for the masses, antimatter for the master plan.
Louder than God’s revolver and twice as shiny,
This one’s for all you rock and rollers,
All you crash queens and motor babies.
The future is bulletproof. The aftermath is secondary.
It’s time to do it now and do it loud.
KILLJOYS! Make some noise!
I’m concerned that this album will be higher on my list than it has any right to be…