| Control crimson red, got arrowed by this arrowhead.
|
| (Show off)
|
| Humming whistling songs, just a hum to show the whistle’s wrong.
|
| (Plaza)
|
| I’m so psycho and sweet, aren’t you sorry not to be with me?
|
| (Mafiosa)
|
| Kill 'em boys where they lay. |
| Peopled pictionary, back off baby.
|
| (Be gone)
|
| From the grossness of dreams, gold teeth decaying in your sleep.
|
| (Step off)
|
| Smoke you out with my sage so I can be alone to end my days.
|
| (So long)
|
| Spitting my dorsal drawl. |
| I live in my head, if you recall.
|
| (Mafiosa)
|
| Self-obsession to boot. |
| Slay the rudiments, hand off your use.
|
| (Transubstantiation!)
|
| Morph out, mess up, good Christian fun.
|
| (Show your blood!)
|
| I showed mine 'cuz you’re out of love.
|
| (Love me not, love me not)
|
| That radiation was a shock.
|
| (Saw my ribs and my spine)
|
| Patted me down and said, «Safe flight.»
|
| Am I out of control?
|
| (All by myself, babbled softly though you didn’t haunt me. Demon tried to tell
|
| you, «I wished I was dead.») |