hunter of tears, relative pain    half of this world is dark with the stain    the stain of unknowing    the dead flower buds,    on smiling lips is innocent blood       the corpse of your god can only rot and grow cold    now promise me you'll kill me before I get old    I hear you on the telephone    moaning my doom    a cold woman will kill me in a darkened room       just enough, a heart attack    seal up my black body bag    take me home and hate me, love    bite the hand of our lost love    take your time and take your life    amputate with this dull knife    heaven's meat is on the stick    stir my pain with an ice pick       the chain-saw smile of the mortician shines    I still got all my fingers but somewhere I lost my mind    I can smell abortion on you    I can see through    I take the gun out of my mouth and point it at you