Excessive cleansing   Washing away the blood   From your shaking hands      Coughing up filth   It's like nothing is clean when   Your mind still is dirty      The swarm is near      Panic's rising by a buzzing sound   Pushes you into states of regression   A black swarm piercing through your skin   Flying high with flies      Sick, turning sicker   It creeps on you   But that's nothing new      Finally realizing   What we've always known   That you're the bug      The swarm is here      Panic's rising by a buzzing sound   Pushes you into states of regression   A black swarm piercing through your skin   Flying high with flies      Flying high with flies      Sick, turning sicker   Turning sick, fucking sick