Waiting for dinner conversations To turn into a slaughtering affair So we begin, waiting for the massacre To hit you in the head, so we begin Our tongue breaking degradation set to please But if you think we'd degrade ourselves Then you've clearly been had When "death and destruction" Is the only measure of our state of content Our tongue breaking degradation set to please Holding on to something real by an arms length It ain't over 'til the writing's on the wall These will be the final words, may you choke on them