Your sick, and you're gunna stay sick
I'll spread me open
Stuck to my ribs
Are all your infants in abortion cribs
You run like roaches
You try to die
I know your poison
In our space we'll, lie
God is unfashionable, you've got to have somebody

To an obscene god we will dance and spit
The skin is thin in our beds we sit
Take off our rings and, we kneel
Our scabbed knees are so slow to heal

Worships worships worships satan
It's just so that they can do anything...
...a religion out of sickness and hatred I just don't understand
Your sick
Your sick
Your sick and you're gunna stay sick

Stretch a little boy hole for looking-glass people
I don't want to be me
I don't want to fear no
Mama's got a scarecrow
Got to let the corn grow
A man can't always reap what he sows
Cut cut cut in pantomime mime mime
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine
Cut cut cut in pantomime mime mime
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine
Cut cut cut in pantomime mime mime
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine
Cut cut cut in pantomime mime mime
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine

I met a big fat bug in the devil

Leave yourself to be ultra-here
The chill of fall is always crawling near
Spiders in the flowers never know their smell
The barbers here know secrets they will never tell
The devil is just an excuse...
Cut cut cut in pantomime mime mime
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine
Cut cut cut in pantomime mime mime
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine