| Hunter of tears, relative pain
|
| Half of this world is dark with the stain
|
| The stain of unknowing the dead flower buds
|
| On smiling lips is innocent blood, oh yeah
|
| The corpse of your god can only rot and grow cold
|
| Now promise me you’ll kill me before I get old
|
| I hear you on the telephone, yeah moaning my doom
|
| A cold woman will kill me in a darkened room
|
| Just enough, a heart attack
|
| Seal up my black body bag
|
| Take me home and hate me, love
|
| Bite the hand of our lost love
|
| Take your time and take your life
|
| Amputate with this dull knife
|
| Heaven’s meat is on the stick
|
| Stir my pain with an ice pick
|
| Pick, pick, pick (x3)
|
| The chain-saw smile of the mortician shines
|
| I still got all my fingers but somewhere I lost my mind
|
| I can smell abortion on you, I can see through
|
| I take the gun out of my mouth and point it at you |