I didn't take her to the motel, she took me.
I'll tell you the unwritten law you dumb son of a bitch.
Hey! I went to college once but all they found were RATS IN MY HEAD!

is it me, or is there something very Lynchean about all of this?
(important to have heard/watched this: This is hardcore)

For me, it bring some sort of nostalgia.
It starts with a piano I imagine playing, and then some trompetas... con sordina. (which are actually from "Bolero on the Moon Rocks" by the Peter Thomas Sound Orchestra.)
It is a mélange between painful and depraved thoughts.

You name the drama and I'll play the part.

A small squeak in the all from the second I want it all.

'Till I say ACTION.

Here comes the hardcore life.

This is Pulp's 1998 This is Hardcore