Your life, it's only a record   turning round inside my brain.   My life is only a needle   scratching grooves into your vein.      Your sunshine soul, it sings to me   Your sunshine soul, like some melody.      My cup is filled with sewage,   spilling brains into your mouth.   My cup is filled with arachnids.   They crawl all over in your house.      Your sunshine soul, it sings to me   Your sunshine soul, like some melody.