It isn't murder, it's too clean
I use a life support machine
It isn't murder, she isn't dead
I only amputated her head
I was a teenage Frankenstein
Teenage blood on my knife
A teenage head in my refrigerator
I can bring it back to life
It isn't wrong, it's too clean
I think that physical love is obscene
Who needs hands, who needs a bed
All I needed was her head
What is the purpose of physical love?
Why can't we keep it pure?
You say sex is the only answer
But I can think of a cure
Teenage head in my refrigerator
But our love affair isn't dead
I can wake her up and carry on later
While I still have her head
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