Bring all your hoes to the garden of Sweden Where there's an orchid for every "love me, love me not" that you've got Oh my god! These seraphims are fabricators They dip their shot glasses in the fountain of youth Like its a goddamn watering hole So toss back your books and your fucking cardboard and your "blood" or "wine" For christ sake As we sing "Oh my fucking god!"
We have become a part of you We are inside of you We're dancing in your ears So consider yourself brainwashed Cause you've got demons singing you to sleep
For those of us who's choir serenades the agnostics and the scientist
I have no heart! I cannot love!
I'll feed you whiskey and I'll feed you blood I'll feed you whiskey and I'll feed you blood I'll feed you whiskey and I'll feed you blood Oh lord have pity on me Oh lord have pity on me Oh lord have pity on me Oh please fiction have pity on me
My brain is functioning with a new form of love
Love! Love! Love! Love!......
Bring all your hoes to the garden of Sweden Where the angels can tangle all your love up in knots Oh my god! These seraphims are all fools They kiss the frogs to find out that they turn into locusts