The last time that I saw you, August of 99,
I shouldve had my hammer and a few rusty spikes
to nail you on a wall and use bottles to catch your blood
and display you for the neighbors so they know your time had come.
And Id drink your blood and feel it dripping down my throat
as it heads for my heart.
And as your body sags and the stench rises in vain,
the people on the street are collecting in dismay.
Before your eyes your head lifts towards the sky
and thats the last thing theyll remember of you.
And Id drink your blood and feel it dripping down my throat
as it heads for my heart.
Youve become a ghost.
Youre floating somewhere in between
the waking world and a landscape of dreams.
Well its nothing but dying.
Youve got a grenade stuck in your teeth and youre pulling at the pin.
Youre an illusion, just a shadow flickering underneath the sun.
And Id drink your blood and feel it dripping down my throat
as it heads for my heart.
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