Power Mustache

I support myself on broken promises, seek your deepest sides of dreams in trash. As we'll meet someday again on the road to darkness. It's a vision of a sad whispering that cries for the dancefloor. Where mall goth italo tom of finland opens the doors of perception and invites you in with the flick of a finger and the shake of a hip. Down the alley, into the gaping maw. Cthulu is fucking a beach sunset in the corner and your own mustache forces you to take the dirty powder until your swirling eyes see the future. Are you 100% jazzed? Surf the dark wave, pump the muscle drum trax, see your reflection in sleaze disco sunglasses. DO YOU HAVE COLD LIPS? COME ON DOWN TO POWER MUSTACHE