The Angels are weeping their tears of goodbye
Beelzebub is singing his final lullaby
Whilst still in the corner, the innocent child
Whose eyes are wide open but whose dreams are defiled
Towering over, an elderly man
His fascist is rising he's got a 5 year plan
Delusional greatness - the rule of the self
The crushing of neighbours; the poor of ill health
(The Black shirts are waiting, the white gloves are off
They're armed and they're ready, they've opened her box)
The music is playing, we've chosen our fate
Beelzebub is dancing, our worlds ruled by hate
Beelzebub is Dancing
Beelzebub is Dancing
Beelzebub is Dancing