|
Laying in my bed, |
|
I think of many horror tales |
|
Yet I barely move, my bed is made of nails |
|
I try to roll, my skin slowly tears away |
|
My flesh is stuck to my bed as |
|
I begin my day |
|
Walking out the house, this morning, the sky is red |
|
The streets are crowded with the bodies of the living dead |
|
They're trying to die, they're leaping off of roof tops |
|
Uh, they only scream in pain as their body flops |
|
I'd rather stay inside my home and only pray to die |
|
But my house is been on fire since like '85 |
|
I can only stand a night of the fatal smoke |
|
But see you never die, you only burn and choke |
|
And so I leave out the house and walk the land |
|
Wild pigs run and feed off the dying man |
|
And look around you, there's bodies hanging from the trees |
|
But they're not dying, they're only crying, "Please" |
|
I hear the thunder in the sky, so |
|
I run in hide |
|
The deadly rain may soon come down, you got to get inside |
|
The lunatics see the lightning, they're screaming, yes |
|
It's raining blood, the streets are a bloody mess |
|
About once or twice a week though it thunder storms |
|
That's when giant heavy red and black clouds form |
|
It's raining blood, livers, and kidneys from the sky |
|
Prepare 'cause when you die, you're coming to the killing fields |
|
What shall that be? |
|
What shall that be? |
|
When that fine moment comes |
|
When the curtains are drawn, the windows are shut |
|
The doors close and you've written what you've written |
|
You said it, that's it, what will you look to be? |
|
What about it, mister, when you've had your last beer |
|
You laughed at family and laughed at your little wife |
|
She begged you not to go out to that bar |
|
As I feed off a dead pig, |
|
I'm thinking back |
|
To when I had a heart beat, and how |
|
I would act |
|
I would steal from the poor, |
|
I'd laugh at the sick |
|
But in the killing fields, you get your fucking neck ripped |
|
So as I walk along, |
|
I meet a lot of strange folks |
|
Some people with no eyes, and gashed open throats |
|
And if they notice your eyeballs are working well |
|
They try to dig 'em out your skull, and go for self |
|
Now in the summertime, it's like a whole 'nother realm |
|
Water victims, fire and oceans overwhelm |
|
To walk outside, the heat will surely cook your brains |
|
Try to run across the street your hair will burst in flames |
|
Victims in a panic run from the heated light |
|
Underneath the city, into the sewer pipes |
|
Into the fire storm this becomes your new land |
|
But there's no food, so you feed off the other men |
|
And now it's been seven months, |
|
I'm barely fed |
|
I chase a billy, billy goat with a human's head |
|
He's steady screaming, "Let me be! Let me be!" |
|
But while |
|
I chase him there's another demon chasing me |
|
All of time moves backwards, |
|
I'm growing old |
|
And the clouds are burning fire, and so |
|
I'm toldThat there's a lot of living souls such as the rich |
|
That choose to live like a bitch, |
|
I'll see you in the killing fields |
|
You've had your big time of lust and sin and filth |
|
What is the end going to be when you realize that time is up? |
|
You've crossed the finish line going in the wrong direction |
|
What shall it be? |
|
What about it, ya man? |
|
When you spent your life in a few years time? |
|
You're burned out shell at 25 years of age |
|
What shall it be? |
|
What about it? |
|
You could go to hell, what shall it be? |
|
You could go to hell, what shall it be? |
|
You could go to hell, what shall it be? |
|
You could go to hell, what shall it be? |
|
You could go to hell |
|
Come, come on down, down |
|
Come, come on down, down |
|
Come, come on down, down |
|
Come, come on down, down |
|
Come, come on down, down |
|
Come, come on down, down |
|
Come, come on down, down |
|
Come, come on down, down |