| Eyes… cold dead eyes. |
| Staring from the shadows to get you
|
| And he’ll get you. |
| 'cause you don’t have a chance
|
| Get away if you can, stay away from the gray man
|
| He could be harmless, but he is craving for blood
|
| Prey on the young, he’s playing god
|
| Cutting in bodies, perversion of his
|
| Please mr Fish, please mr Fish
|
| Lives… all these lives. |
| Extinguished by life in perversions
|
| They don’t stand a chance
|
| How they cried when they ran, ran away from the gray ma
|
| He could be harmless, but he is craving for blood
|
| Prey on the young, he’s playing god
|
| Cutting in bodies, perversion of his
|
| Please mr Fish, please mr Fish
|
| (Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones)
|
| He could be harmless, but he is craving for blood
|
| Prey on the young, he’s playing god
|
| Cutting in bodies, perversion of his
|
| Please mr Fish, please mr Fish
|
| Please mr Fish, (please mr Fish) |