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They say the eyes are the windows of the soul |
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But i love all the little dark holes n your body bag. |
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Your little willie, he's oh, so pretty, |
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And those titties, and those titties in the body bag. |
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Nobody knows you and nobody wants to. |
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Willie's poised to dive into flesh, |
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Something tells me he will leave a mess in the body bag. |
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When we kiss my eyes are closed, |
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My lips are full, i breathe through my nose in the body bag. |
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Nobody knows you and nobody wants to. |
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See the children play in the mud, |
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Moulding balls of faces and blood from the body bag. |
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All praise for corporal flesh; |
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The smell of love, the smell of death from the body bag. |
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Is it a womb or is it a tomb? |
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A sac of water that's quiet and warm, |
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A complex shape's beginning to form, |
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On marble slabs you're flat on your back, |
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All colours fall into the basic black of the body bag. |
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The creatures of earth are countless and strange, |
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Open your lips and tell me the name of your body bag. |
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All praise for corporal flesh |
