The original Aliens vs Predator (plural, so the Rebellion one, not the one on Atari Jaguar) used to play whatever music cd you had forgotten in your computer's CD drive.
In my case, the first level's "look alive, private !" injonction and the run through the empty corridors occured with the big ben chimes and Renaud Séchan's "Miss Maggie". It was simultaneously fitting and not fitting at all. For some reason it stuck.
High society women or whores who quite often are the same ones
Normal women, superstars or plain ones, female of all kinds I love you
Even to the stupidest one I wish to dedicate these few verses
Coming from my disgust of men and their warlike morality
Because no woman on the planet will ever be dumber than her brother
Nor more vain nor more dishonest, except perhaps miss Thatcher
Women I love you because when sport turns to war
There's no gal, or so few, among the hordes of supporters
These raving mad fanatics drunk on hatred and beer
Deifying the morons in blue, insulting the assholes in green
There's no hooligan girl, imbecile and murderess
Not even in Great Britain, except of course miss Thatcher
Women I love you because, a car in your hands,
You don't become as moronic as them, the poor twats who hit each others
For a slighlty damaged headlight or for a finger raised high
There's even some who end up shooting each others to save their car radio
The obscene gestures of those cretins, no woman is vulgar enough
To use them repeatedly, except maybe miss Thatcher
Women I love you because you don't go die in wars
Because the sight of a firearm doesn't thrill your ovaries
Because in the ranks of hunters who frag the doves
And occasionally the migrants, I've never seen a female
No woman is pathetic enough to polish a revolver
And feel invulnerable, except of course miss Thatcher
It's not from a feminine brain that the atom bomb came out
And no woman has on her hands the blood of american natives
Palestinians and Armenians testify from the bottom of their tombs
That a genocide is masculine, like an SS, a bullfighter
In this fucking mankind, assassins are all brothers
No woman can rivalize, except perhaps miss Thatcher
Women I love you finally above all for your weakness and your eyes
When a man's strength lies only in his gun and in his dick
And when the last hour will come, hell will be populated with assholes
Playing football or war, competing to piss the farthest
I, I would turn into a dog if I can stay on Earth
And in guise of a daily lamppost, I'll treat myself with miss Thatcher.