Lyrics: The Acacia Strain. See You Next Tuesday.

I said run
And you wont be able to see me because youll be bleeding from the eyes
The thought of your genitals makes me sick and I bet you could fit five cocks up that ass
Why dont you just strap a mattress to your back?
These are the last days of the rest of your life
Next time I want a better excuse
Dropped like a bad habit
I wash my hands of you all
My slate is clean and Ill be smiling all the way to the bank
Face down, ass up
I want to destroy something beautiful
By the end I want everyone dead
By the end Im going to be the only one standing
Not even your children are safe