We are guilty, we are beyond hope
We beg to differ, we are a terminal case
Press darlings, press darlings, press darlings
Press darlings, press darlings
We depress the press, darlings
We`re on the outside, but we`re not looking in
We are the vaseline gang, don`t play your little games
Press darlings, press darlings, press darlings
Press darlings, press darlings
We depress the press, darlings
And if evil be the food of genius
There aren`t many demons around
If passion ends in fashion
Nick kent / bushell is the best-dressed man in town
Are we different? - no
We are exactly the same
There are no boxes for us
The ones you love to hate - so read on!