We are built our own part of the Doomsday Machine. I one song alone won't shut it down again. No harm in dreaming for two minutes though. You never know, it might remind us who we are. Let's keep it simple. Sick of being cynical? Come out of the woodwork and laugh out loud. If we're going down in a dead town, in a neighbourhood under siege, there's no way we are coming quietly or single file. We'll go down with a sick grin and a heckle to eternity, 'cos as long as there's gallows humour there's hope in Hell. "It's dark over d***'s Mother's", as my Mum would say. Some draw the blinds and prophesise the storm to come, some take to the streets, cheering "Let's 'ave it then". Singing like it's going out of fashion, and all the better for it. You'll necer take us alive, if every night is mischief night. Your prison, our playground. Your vice, our virtue.