Something soulless
Sold you
It hates you
They wear the sheepskins,
But you are the monster
Breathing men would kill
Lucy don't go
Hold me
Haunt me
Tinctures taunt you,
Cause you are the monster
Breathing men would kill
Blame me for this
As you sit in your counting room
Coughing up blood
Just to spit in my mouth
Soon you'll be gone
And the rain will wash you away
Tucked in and gagged
Now say your prayers
Lipstick tourniquets work
When the poison begins to take hold
And for what reward?
So the simple can suck on the rinds.