Something soulless Sold you It hates you They wear the sheepskins, But you are the monster Breathing men would kill Lucy don't go Hold me Haunt me Tinctures taunt you, Cause you are the monster Breathing men would kill Blame me for this As you sit in your counting room Coughing up blood Just to spit in my mouth Soon you'll be gone And the rain will wash you away Tucked in and gagged Now say your prayers Lipstick tourniquets work When the poison begins to take hold And for what reward? So the simple can suck on the rinds.