Lyrics: Bled (The). His First Crush. F Is For Forensics.

Spike the I.V. with kerosene as insects halo an open wound. They flutter
death threats in morse code and old habits are exposed. Secret handshake
decapitation. Push the knife back in before embalming fluid seeps. I'm
pulling out the scissors for old times sake. It's not fun and games until
someone loses an eye. Hi-fives with butcher knives, they're hoping for a
fast recovery.