From the dust hundred forty three one
Fell in the circle of the world like a flower bud
A million marbled mouths all blinking
Moon of milky briar blooms sleeping

Blithy flies swarm a swift pull trigger
Lift me off the ledge, lick the sticky liquor
Don’t let him in, don’t let them call your number
Won’t you hold my hand as I go under?

Ooh, come a little closer
Ooh, same as the last
Ooh, megalomaniac
Cut my tongue, better watch your back

Eye to thigh as he sharpens his blade
Thick sweat, sick salt, lead bellyaches
I don’t know what I’ve been drinking
Dripping dread as all the lights start scrеaming

Seven-inch steel bolt fed to thе head
Now is then and I am now bound to forget
The devil wears a cotton dress over his gun
Jagged mumbles wispy warbles blushing in the Sun

Ooh, come a little closer
Ooh, same as the last
Ooh, megalomaniac
Cut my tongue, better watch your back
Ooh, come a little closer
Ooh, same as the last
Ooh, megalomaniac
Cut my tongue, better watch your back