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Start at my toes, |
|
For this is where the evil grows |
|
My legs are sharp, might split your skin |
|
And spill the juice that feeds your grin. |
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Take to walking up my spine, |
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See my love drip down like spit wine |
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And then I'll take your jewels in my bag |
|
And take 'em home to mama. |
|
I'll put your jewels in my bag |
|
And take 'em home to mama. |
|
Take the slaughter to the lamb |
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Take the hung to the ham and back |
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Take the neck to the crack and pow |
|
How does it feel, |
|
Whatever you get you steal |
|
And I'm bored here, rooted to the floor |
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And what I want you just can't buy anymore |
|
So I'll collect your jewels in my bag |
|
And take 'em home to mama. |
|
I'll put your jewels in my bag |
|
And take 'em home to mama. |
|
I want some push to my shove, |
|
But your hand is in my glove |
|
And I'm mad, bad, ripped raw and bleeding |
|
Swinging like a beef hook on the hips of hell, |
|
And the stains on my boots say my life is going well |
|
To snap your skinny neck in two |
|
Would be the least that |
|
I could do |
|
So I'll collect your jewels in my bag |
|
And take 'em back to mama. |
|
I'll put your jewels in my bag |
|
And take 'em home to mama. |
|
Stop at my bones, |
|
For here my evil made its home |
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For this is where the evil grows |
|
X8 |
