He's got a carcass in the basement, 
and it's high time he found a replacement
It'll be just like a first date, but better
It's the farthest that he's been from 
a careful process for a quick completion, 
cause the bomb's just a couple clicks from his suburb

So he doesn't have to please her, 
just apply a kitchen towel soaked with ether 
and sit her upright in the last car she'll ride in, 
drag her inside bound with duct tape 
under his arm, like a baby or a pound cake, 
set the knives out, put the IV inside her

It’s gone on and on and on and on and on and on and on

But he's dried out his eyes, as he's buried alive 
all the girls that he’s met every season
Keeps a book, photographs, his victims in tact 
so he can have a memory of it all
But the world's bound to end in a minute or ten, 
he knows routine's nothing but a shadow, 
and pasted shots of his kills are pointless frills, oh no

Because the bomb’s just a couple clicks from his suburb

It's his last night, so he slows down, 
takes a breath, doesn't have to sweat the cops now
But the practice is soon to leave him exhausted, 
and when he wakes up she's above him, 
saying "Baby, let's go out enjoy the sunset - 
It's the last time we'll get to enjoy it, 

and it's the farthest that we've been from 
a careful process for a quick completion, 
because the bomb's just a couple clicks from our suburb
It's not atrocious, we'll be sleeping, 
and the universe of course will end up weeping 
on the staircase in the corner. So, sorry."

So the carcass in the basement 
became a whole lot more than a replacement
It became just like a first date, but better

So he dries out his eyes, as he buries alive, 
this doomed world that has seen its last season
And the book, photographs, his victims in tact, 
won't leave a single memory of it all
Cause the world sees the end in a minute or ten, 
and the routine's just a fucking shadow
And all his shots of his kills were pointless frills, oh no