| Stick your fingers in the eyes of night
|
| Rip open the Belly of Death
|
| Now you’ll see
|
| What is real
|
| Tear down the image of youth all around
|
| Steal the dreams from their minds
|
| And you’ll be
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| All their lies
|
| Can it be what you’re taught to believe
|
| It’s nothing more than your mind can conceive
|
| He’s out there waiting, he’s waiting for you
|
| The psycho is ready to kill
|
| Well you’re a mean one, a bloody bastard son
|
| You don’t care what they say or what they do
|
| It matters not to you
|
| You’ve been warned not to set foot after dark
|
| You think it’s all just for fun
|
| But there’s no setting sun
|
| Can it be what you’re taught to believe
|
| It’s nothing more than your mind can conceive
|
| He’s out there waiting, he’s waiting for you
|
| The psycho is ready to kill
|
| One way all the time
|
| You can’t seem to get it right
|
| You never see the tunnel
|
| Or the light
|
| Spend a million just to say
|
| You’re hip
|
| You got to find a way
|
| To get the thrill of your life
|
| Trip the lights
|
| Trip the light fantastic
|
| Party and you’ll die
|
| Someday you will die
|
| 3 am and you feel that twitch again
|
| For a walk in the park
|
| It’s getting late
|
| Slip through the gate
|
| The psycho jumps out from behind
|
| Sticks his knife in your throat
|
| And you die |