|
Turning the knife buried in your stomach I woke up |
|
alive black with stain glistening |
|
and new the sunset's coming |
|
fingerpaintings of the insane come on and sterilize me |
|
kneel down and idolize me |
|
suck me |
|
**** me |
|
resurrect me |
|
rut me |
|
cut me |
|
and infect me |
|
slice me |
|
dice me |
|
I wanna die |
|
screamin the thoughts of dead babies |
|
wiped away with my semen |
|
bleed me |
|
feed me |
|
and inject me |
|
feel me, |
|
kill me |
|
then dissect me |
|
the pigs will squeal their blood will drain |
|
finger paintings of the insane |
|
slice the throat of authority imagining infinity |
|
greasy smoke billows into the sky coach roach dreams, |
|
the human dust of pain twitching |
|
screaming hide your razor face |
|
fingerpaintings of the insane |
|
bloody mountain momma rockabilly machine |
|
kiddy porn lover with a mouth for disease |
|
giddy'up honey my rubber **** doll |
|
when your candle's snuffed out |
|
I'll burn brighter than before |
|
pink poinsttias for emotion that died |
|
a chilling wargasm that feels like cyanide |
|
her pussy bleeds sunshine, |
|
rabid for flesh as each raindrop |
|
plunges to its death |
