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Queen of the Damned
Help me, define the light that's shining on me,
To get back what they've taken from me,
and build a little fire where it's cold
Show me, the path that leads to all the glory
The words that tell a sacred story,
and build a little fire where it's cold
I wanna live in a dream
In my record machine
I want a piece of the world
And every one inside my mouth
Cos all the money I waste,
Is it a manner of taste
I want a piece of the world a
And you can't make me spit it out
Take me, back from the darkness where they sent me,
Give hope to places to where it can't be,
and build a little fire where it's cold
I wanna live in a dream (I wanna live in a dream)
In my record machine (in my record machine)
I want a piece of the world
And every one inside my mouth
And all the money I waste, (and all the money I waste)
Is it a manner of taste (is in a manner of taste)
I want a piece of the world
And you can't make me spit it out
You can't give me a reason, I don't need one to shine
You can't give me the feelings cos they're already mine
You get one in a million and if the sun won't rise
On my soul, then I'll glow
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
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