While the words rot your mouth And your face is replaced May the invisible people pity you When your fading fantasy Takes you out of body May the angel flower deliver you And as you reap what you sow May you know, what you don't While you offer passive plastic Servants will feed you your own spit You are a staircase to a ditch Empty suits that lead feet off a cliff While the words rot your mouth And your face is replaced May the invisible people pity you When your fading fantasy Takes you out of body May the angel flower deliver you While you offer passive plastic Servants will feed you your own spit You are a staircase to a ditch Empty suits that lead feet off a cliff