Static, static, static. We're on a video rage. Static, static, static. We're on a video rage. . We're all blue from projection tubes. We're all blue from projection tubes.
This isn't really sex, this isn't really life. This isn't really anything I think I like. . And I will not sit on, broken glass. Not for you or anyone.
There's some kinda love. And there's some kinda hate. The maggots in the eye of love. Won't copulate. . And it's a whoah oh oh oh oh. And it's a whoah oh oh oh oh.
The corpes all hanging headless and limp. Bodies with no surprises. The blood drains down like the devil's rain. We'll bathe tonight. . I want your skulls.
Black black, the blackest black. I am the blackest of the black of time. Don't talk, you know who I am. And you know just where I stand. . Now I can't look baby into your face.
Death-type dreaming hoping not fade away. And I'm sinking ever deeper. In the gleaming. And I'm weaving down through alleys of bone. Dermal dripping. Trees of people still it lingers.
Pull another face. Rip another hide. Steal the waning moon. From a dying bride. All the world must die. All the world must die. Ripped and skinned alive.