| I grew up as an orphan in a big old house
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| I had no mother and no father, they had left me out
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| Confused was the word for me, the confusion
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| It planted a seed, in me
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| And I was placed in this home as a five year old
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| I was presented to my foster mother, she was so old
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| She took advantage of my company
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| It was nothing but slavery, slavery
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| She’s dead in the house
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| She’s dead in the house
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| She’s dead in the house
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| You grow up under pressure and psychic terror
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| Then eventually your brain will just flip out and go «error»
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| The satisfaction of a murder for a little boy
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| Is so unhealthy, but it helped me on my journey to joy
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| And I prepared for a sweet revenge
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| No regrets ever since, ever since
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| Dead in the house
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| Oh she’s dead in the house
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| She’s dead, dead in the house
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| Oh she’s dead
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| Spread out she’s all over the place in the house
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| And she’s dead
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| A chainsaw is nice it’s a healthy tool
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| Or perhaps a good old fashioned drowning in the garden pool
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| Or a brick in the head for all the stuff she said
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| A machete-massacre, I’ll shred her up in my head
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| There’s a blood thirsty killer and a caterpillar
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| It would crush her into pieces, I would gladly drill her
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| A big hole in the skull to fill with gasoline
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| Light a match and watch the fire sprinkle out what a scene
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| I would be happy oh so happy, by the time I’m done
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| I would be running around the house with a taser gun
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| And tase all the different body parts, electrifying
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| This must be the greatest day ever, no I ain’t lying
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| As happy as a boy can be
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| On his way to puberty, puberty
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| Dead in the house
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| Oh she’s dead, dead in the house
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| She’s dead, dead in the house
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| Oh she’s dead
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| Spread out she’s all over the place in the house
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| And she’s dead |