If the child slaughter then come later   Wrapped up and returned after many years   Crawled out from under uncouth layers   To take a shell back and lip in, well, wouldn't you?      Would the child answer full of anger   Full of rage and blood lust spoken but never shown   With a seeming riddle or a puzzle   Neither the brutal nor the timid could have known      Deep down inside too dark to see   The sex demands a shot of something   What violent other could there be?      Here is the end   Here is nothing   Nothing      After breathing in the beginning   After beating through what wasn't there   Death became the only answer, but not the cure   The final act became the meaning, no one cared      Deep down inside too dark to see   The sex demands a shot of something   What violent other could there be?      Here is the end   Here is nothing   Nothing, nothing   Nothing, nothing   Nothing