Scorched hearth, your link to the past
Was it a Pollock-painted mattress shrine you built to last
Umbilical ties lead to monogamous lies
Left in a state of festering undress, yeah
Who makes a union of a million mattresses
Like putty in my hands, in my hands
Cut off the hands of a thief, the heart of his weakness, yeah
Cut out the heart from a man and leave the gaping chest
Strong words for adulterous types
I'll make a milk carton man out of me, run out of tread, I'm so fucking tired
Do you hear me
Are you listening baby
I am not your fucking toilet
Who makes a union of a million mattresses
Like putty in my hands, in my hands
Cut off the hands of a thief, the heart of his weakness, yeah
Cut out the heart, cut out the heart, shouldn't say the rest
You're tripping the legs I stand
Your favorite iron brand
You just wish you could burn it on my skull
And what is your next demand
You want me to do a dance
When I'm already prancing, dodging landmines
My last request
Lend me this rest
Who makes a union of a million mattresses
Like putty in my hands, reaching forth, put the knife in my hands
Cut off the hands of a thief, if you do he is then bound to bite like the red fanged dog
He will cut out the heart on his own and drown it in his piss