I wrapped you inside my coat. When they came to firebomb the house. I didn't feel pain, 'cause no one can touch me. Now that I'm held in your spell. .
Oh no, pop is dead. Long live pop. It died an ugly death. By back catalogue. . And know you know it gets you nowhere. And now you know you realise. . Oh no, pop is dead.
The easiest way to sleep at night. Is to carry on believing. That I don't exist. . The easiest way to sell your soul. Is to carry on believing. That we don't exist.