I was left here in a small black box.
I knew I would pay for what I killed.
Feeling like a trapped and frightened fox
'Cause ten strong men are coming up that hill.
They got chains and whips and a hangman's noose.
I'm not even scared 'cause I'm so drunk.
Tearing into me like a Christmas goose.
Scalping me into a gruesome monk.
I can sense the touch of every filament in the sawteeth
Passing through my brainpan, hitting all of the grey matter, boy
My brain damage is much more pleasant than expected.
Blood's ejected. Dick's erected, welcoming death.
I am feeling very sexual
When my limbs are being torn apart.
I am feeling intellectual
When the end of my existence starts.
Mind is flooding with a chemical
Acting as my cosmic space tour guide,
Reaching for a holy tentacle
That pulls me to the hopeless world outside.
I see horrible intestinal creatures of blighted origin.
I can't tell if they are fighting or if they're making love, boy.
They're combining. A fleshy, red homunculus appears
And take my soul away and now I am free.
Ever ask that question to yourself?
Looking in a mirror, feeling dead.
Why do I persist in living still,
Helpless like a twitching, severed head?
Living out the seven second time
RIght before you lose all consciousness,
Writhing ina very private Hell
Until you find your peace in nothingness.
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