Cordelia: I get it now. You're all spies. Probably all Russian. And you've brainwashed me, and want me to believe we're friends so I'll spill the beans about some nano-technology thingy that you want. Gunn: So I look Russian to you? Cordelia: Black Russian. Angel: That's a drink.
'Hell Bound'
Buffista Music 1: The Music (And Who Can Blame It) Swells
There's a lady plays her fav'rite records On the jukebox ev'ry day. All day long she plays the same old songs, And she believes the things that they say.
She sings along with all the saddest songs, And she believes the stories are real. She let's the music dictate the way that she feels.