|
Into the wilderness, I found myself powerless |
|
At the hands of this antiquated artifact, thought obsolete |
|
I had uncovered it, container of obscurity |
|
Archaeological findings, increased heartbeat |
|
I chose not to speak of it, hid it away in my toolkit |
|
A simple tin containing petrified hash |
|
It took my breath away, inexplicable mental sway |
|
Soon my affection would grow unabashed |
|
I must protect you at all cost |
|
None comprehend, hash in a tin, my best friend |
|
Addicted to hash in a tin, prepare to commit the ultimate sin |
|
Murder for the false god before you |
|
I'll murder for you, hash in a tin, master |
|
You have no choice |
|
I hear the tin's laughter |
|
Waiting until the rest go to sleep |
|
I sharpen my shovel to kill in deceit |
|
Go to sleep |
|
Unleash my bud-thirsty devotion |
|
Decapitate excavation team in sleeping state |
|
A brutal weapon as it is, this shovel sure is killing great |
|
The blood, it splatters on my face, all their lives I must erase |
|
Kill for me |
|
Yes indeed |
|
Make them bleed |
|
As you command me |
|
Bodies mangled, torn apart |
|
Teeth removed for no one to know |
|
Dig them graves or leave them to burn |
|
A taste of hash I think that I've earned |
|
It's about time you reward your humble slave |
|
No! I'm not to be passed around |
|
I don't want to sell you, I just want to smoke you |
|
You can't do this to me |
|
Let me hit that shit |
|
Now I realize what has happened here |
|
That hash, it didn't talk to me |
|
I'm just a pothead archaeologist |
|
With a homicidal urge to chill |