Heartache! Headache! Victim of sequence! Hey you! You have nothing to defence. Drugs of violence in your glass of milk. Drencrom, vellocet - what do you want to drink?
Go ahead! Kill'em! Don't you let'em live? You are butcher, messenger of grief. Screaming louder prayers in the sky. No one hear them, no it's time to die!
Your mind is lost in strange solution, reality is just illusion. Eternal woe turns into silence. You are a serve of ultraviolence.
They hate you for you can breath. They curse you for you still live. Take your gun, and don't forget Glass of milk with taste of red.