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