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• Artiste: Blackmail
• Titre: Club 45
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She dropped the bomb And held the score A leather fiction That has left her bored Another seed I stuck into you You get the toxic with a broken clue You feel the heat Content again A drug that speeds you till you hit the band Prepared for more You scrubbed the floor Till you had enough and then you locked the door All my senses are collected in my hand And I think that it was nothing I have planned Another scene On a busy street I know I'm there to get up my feet A rip-off fare Of a leather sign I feel like something that was on your mind Intend the kiss That let me in Into a secret that was made in sin And stuck too deep And what has left is just a fuckin'creep All my senses are collected in my hand And I think that it was nothing I have planned All my senses are collected in my hand And you are banned.