DESCRIPTION:
YOU'RE WHAT THEY CALL FRENCH CALL "LES INCOMPETETS":
No, but you're wrong. For so god damn long.
I've been waiting for service.
Adorable... this place is adorable, but far too expensive.
I propose retirement.
What, no lime? No cute little umbrella?
Oh no baby, this ain't attitude, it's baditude.
Have you looked into the devil's eyes? I didn't think so.
Do you have the golden touch
such only gods of great stature like
Dr. Jones possesses? I didn't think so.
Needless to say, I'm not impressed.
Okay, here's the truth, I smashed a lot of empty
beer bottles that night.
Hey... dissed and dismissed... No, can't blame her.

ALBUM: FEAST OF THE BLOOD MONSTERS
ALL SONGS WRITTEN BY:
DANCE CLUB MASSACRE