Son why won’t you go to school you must get a job real soon
Or else clean up you room grow up you god damn fool
We’re ashamed our son is doomed
He’s possessed up in his room
Son quit that fucking noise
From now you’re grounded
In a mental warzone in a mental warzone
It’s all written in my hand I’ll be dead by midnight
They call him the reaper man he whispers in my mind
We’re ashamed our son is doomed
He’s possessed up in his room
Son quit that fucking noise
From now you’re grounded
In a mental warzone in a mental warzone
In a mental warzone in a mental warzone
A mental warzone a mental warzone