You were the last I tell myself The last of those I robbed of health I doubt myself my restraint Can I live without your pain?
Prominently on display in my living room Stuffed and treated, none could assume That I'm a fucking psycho, polishing my trophies Casually glancing as they decay slowly Possessed by their glazed eyes and their pale cold lips
Each room macabre For some too much My collection complete My purpose obsolete
Would you believe I still feel the need To disembowel those Filled with greed Maybe one more, her blood will stain my floor Swept under the rug, beaten and drugged Praying for mercy, this may be sloppy Organs on display, I revel in the pain Softly caress your heart in my hands Predictable failure, my descentTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.