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There's someone
down below,
blowing you a kiss.

They watch from their windows,

as all arms fall to their sides,
as all eyes fix
on the death of tomorrow.

And you found everything you need
to make a life complete:
completely revolting.

And they have safety and relief
for sale up the street;
I see you in line every
day.

You had time to waste,
and I'm not sorry.

Such a basketcase;
hide the cutlery.

I had time to kill,
it's dead and buried.

You've got guts to spill,
but no one trustworthy.

These creatures are waking up
in these dark trees:
awaiting like vultures.

Eyes roll back,
turn white
in time to feed;
they salivate in hunger:

for you
and everything they need
to make a death complete:
completely unnatural;

And salvation lies
behind those dead eyes
that watch you while you
sleep every night,
and

You had time to waste,
and I'm not sorry.

Such a basketcase;
hide the cutlery.

I had time to kill,
it's dead and buried.

You've got guts to spill,
but no one trustworthy.

You had time to waste,
and I'm not sorry.

Such a basketcase;
hide the cutlery.

I had time to kill,
it's dead and buried.

You've got guts to spill,
but no one trustworthy.