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Waiting for dinner conversations |
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To turn into a slaughtering affair |
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So we begin, waiting for the massacre |
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To hit you in the head, so we begin |
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Our tongue breaking degradation set to please |
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But if you think we'd degrade ourselves |
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Then you've clearly been had |
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When "death and destruction" |
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Is the only measure of our state of content |
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Our tongue breaking degradation set to please |
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Holding on to something real by an arms length |
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It ain't over 'til the writing's on the wall |
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These will be the final words, may you choke on them |
