Из альбома: The Late Great Whatever
We don't have horns,
But we are devils.
Mutilated cars,
No one's on the phone.
Don't look so sad.
Just a long slow death,
Of a cancer mess,
That we all laughed at.
She eats my skull.
Paralyzed and dull.
Well I don't wanna go home.
I don't wanna go home.
Cut down to size,
With weaker knives.
Strangers that you know,
Crawling on the floor.
She eats my skull.
Paralyzed and dull.
Well I don't wanna go home.
I don't wanna go home.
Knocked up out cold,
They've lost control.
It looks so sad,
It's not that bad.
It's not so bad,
Don't look so sad.
It's your last good breath,
That spells exit.
She eats my skull.
Paralyzed and dull.
Well I don't wanna go home.
I don't wanna go home.