The white hole of death
Stays within us
The jerk
He hates these people
The black hole of death
Leaves your soul
The jerk
He loves nobody
He’ll get naked and he’ll use guns
Inside of your house
The reason we hate
The last corpse in the morgue
The final banana on the tree
The last grape on the vine
Nobody hates more than them
Nobody loves less than them
Tomorrow will be less than today
The last cadaver in bed says
He loves nobody
He hates everybody
He’ll get us killed
He’ll leave us with burn marks on the chest
The reason we hate
Roll out of your bedsheets
Directly into your furnace
Roll into your bedsheets
The last thing your eyes will never see
The sight of your daughter
Jesus Christ
Heating dead hamsters in the microwave
Who can I tell: I can’t let it into my home
Who’s to say I can’t let it into my home
The reason we hate
Prisoners of war
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