spike the i.v. with kerosene as insects halo an open wound. they flutter death threats in morse code and old habits are exposed. secret handshake decapitation. push the knife back in before the embalming fluid seeps. i'm pulling out the scissors for old times sake. it's not fun and games until someone loses an eye. hi-fives with butcher knives, they're hoping for a fast recovery.
Lyrics submitted by MooWasHere