Lyrics

Hey, make way for the lurker; a bonafide fiend and cattle perverter Stripped down to his nothing at all, with a pot of body fluid decorating the walls Whoa, here's something slow, and it's only gonna get faster If I get my way, you'll end up dead on a tray, and I'll take a knife and cut off your balls G-g-g-g get down!!! Call me, for what you need Everything you want and more You don't have to pay… we'll trade I'll get to throw you off the twenty second floor I like fried rice – Fried rice is nice This can't be happening – why the fuck are you breathing?