Pounds of filth, on the back of myself Evil cannot smile Tentacles, they are cellular There's hidden demise Aren't they nice? Ohh Aren't they nice? Ohh Weeks of wait, will the doctor say yes Or no to us? Even so, I will always love you Tomorrow is fear Ain't it nice? Ohh My device, it will call My demise You pray and hound you cry Silent whimpers through the night I know its hard, yet accept that we'll be What it is, molds of goo Rotting in my bloodstream They swim in me Aren't they nice? Ohh Ain't it nice? Ohh My demise