Do you remember those old days?
Glamorous nights and masquerades;
Lights and music and smiling faces
Stuffed with champagne.
I want to know what it was like
On the verge of collapse.
I want to see the doped masses,
The blinded eyes,
And I want to watch them
As they wake up in those mansions
On that late October morning,
With hangovers and wet clothes,
While they hear on the radio
That their little world,
Filled with excess and spectacle,
Would so very soon
Be no more.