What's a pretty little thing like you
Doing in this dingy old back room?
I got some candy, a piece for every bruise.
Grab it if it's handy. Any cock'll do.
Now dance to the beat of the slow, slow turn
Of the world as it weeps in this slow, slow burn,
And the shoes on your feet ain't set to return.
I'm the one that's walking out alone.
And you won't need those sandals where you're going.
Baby, you ain't never goin home.
And the last sound that you'll ever know is the buzzards' crying.
Soon they'll be picking at your bones.
I caught you in the bathroom with a real wide stance.
I caught you down by the lagoon with my hands down your pants
On an old, dirty mattress with stains and yellow scarves.
I start out watching but I get so hard.
And you won't need that mattress where you're going.
I'm the one who's walking out alone.
And buddy, you ain't ever going home.
Because the last sound that you'll ever know is my bonesaw grinding.
Soon we'll be chipping at your bones.
Every single plan I make has been informed by these sour grapes.
I got one last death to fake before I settle down on the last burning block
Of the last burning town. The devil and Behemoth have been hanging around
And I don't miss that old crowd. So goddamned lazy and loud.
Because the last sound that I'll ever know is my heart exploding.
Soon I'll be nothing but these bones.
I don't need this bullshit where I'm going.
I don't think I'm ever going home
And I'm the one who's walking out alone,
So bitch, quit your fucking crying.