I made a tomb for all the incompatible cells I could take   I brought bells to the wake   And you, you didn't mind shedding your beautiful European blood as I screamed - "Death to the murderers we've loved all our lives!"      I was good with names   I had a way with faces   I was the dominant theme in a number of places   And you, you didn't mind mixing your beautiful European oils for a still life   Oh Candice, we should've run for our lives!      When I'm at war I insist on slaughter and getting it on with   the hangman's daughter   She needs release   She needs to feel at peace with her father, the fucking maniac...      Desperate times call for desperate measures   I wanted you   I wanted these treasures, too...