Messages...      The bastards in the yard, they circle the house and car   They'll make a check today, yet spend it on themselves   A hostage of cocaine, bump off buck knives   With skinny and rancid whores, or a child at the porn store   It's coming...wait for them to kill the innocent man   The kid next door, it's the finalization, we're the battered herd   It's coming...wait for them to kill the most in us      The riveting shock, for half a block   My synapsis is full of years and years and years and years      A hermaphrodite hanging in the window of cause   A borrowed theme song, a twisted tide      Throw me to the dogs today   I could care less now