| Everyone I see’s diseased or broken
|
| Holes in their arms, they got cocaine eyes
|
| Self-mutilation is self-surveillance
|
| Wanna get to heaven, you gotta die
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| She’s crawled out of a garbage can
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| She’s gonna waste another man
|
| Ah, sick city, gonna be the death of me
|
| Ah, sick city, gonna be my death
|
| Gonna be the death of me
|
| Little Johnny Junk’s a subway pilot
|
| He’ll knife you in the head for Chinese rock
|
| Catch a falling spike, ride a silver rocket
|
| Score a body bag deal from the Vietcong
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| She’s crawled out of a garbage can
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| She’s gonna waste another man
|
| Ah, sick city, gonna be the death of me
|
| Ah, sick city, gonna be my death
|
| Gonna be the death of me
|
| Your meat on a hook in your own snuff movie
|
| Torture loop hallucination, nerves spliced
|
| No innoculation from the viral programme
|
| There’s spiders in your mouth, shoot insecticide
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| She’s crawled out of a garbage can
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| She’s gonna waste another man
|
| Ah, sick city, gonna be the death of me
|
| Ah, sick city, gonna be my death
|
| Gonna be the death of me
|
| Sick, sick, sick, sick city
|
| Sick, sick, sick, sick city
|
| Sick, sick, sick, sick city
|
| Sick, sick, sick, sick city, sick city |