My fists two bullets, Just ripping through your face Is that your cheekbone exploding Like a pane of glass
Porcelain under my fist Cutting through my knuckles like razors I really should have killed you, But I think I'll pass
Like pouring salt on a slug It's the pain not the fact that you'll die You are nothing but a bug That I'm torturing slowly
Like pouring salt on a slug I am truth and you are a liar Your grave has already been dug Don't take it so poorly
Isn't it ironic How you want to scream but you can't I've got your tongue in my hand And still you're able to taste
Your blood filling your lungs. Guess your body has become a betrayal. I'm just a humble cleaner. You, my friend, you're waste
Like pouring salt on a slug It's the pain not the fact that you'll die You are nothing but a bug That I'm torturing slowly
Like pouring salt on a slug I am truth and you are a liar Your grave has already been dug Don't take it so poorlyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
