Men on strings and fancy things   Are going for the city fling   we'll sell our souls, sell our souls   city streets and city beats   are in between city sheets   we'll sell our souls, sell our souls   I am unrest, deep inside   I hate this place, want to hide   but I've sold my soul, sold my soul   The man in charge, wearing black   he speaks to me, says to me,   you think, therefore, you will fall