Woorden: Bush. The Science of Things. Dead Meat.

your dead meat
your dead meat
your dead meat
your

your dead meat from former days
I am your crisis
blue asbestos in your veins
I'm your broken fingers
I've killed you twice I will again
revenge is eager
see first you'll crash then you'll burn

dor'thy died for your pleasure
It's hard to get along
in this car-crash weather
weather

your dead meat
your dead meat
your dead meat
your

your dead meat formaldehyde
didn't phase me
I soon returned to track you down
for your confession
I'll be your poison and your pain
I'll be your struggle to be sane
exploited, lament and the places you never went

dor'thy died for your pleasure
It's hard to get along
in this car-crash weather, car crash weather
dor'thy died for your pleasure
It's hard to get along
in this car-crash weather

car-crash weather
car-crash weather
weather

I'm doing you in tomorrow
that's why i'm dressed in all this sorrow
I'm doing you in tomorrow
I'll burn before I mellow

dor'thy died for your pleasure
It's hard to get along
It's hard to get along
It's your dead meat from former days
It's your dead meat from former days
It's your dead meat from former days
It's your dead meat from former days