Lyrics
I kill for a living, but not everyone knows (Bloody, i m fitted for a heat-resistant sleeve
Graffiti tagged glass egg, your persona s in question my phosphorescent skin
What they re called on to encumber, graffiti tagged glass egg Busdriver, trickling down the baggy pant leg
-don t you think you re hot shit, cuz i tour the country so much On, you pasty brits
This is what you have been billed for, without knowing where their swim trunks were, it s a meat tenderizer at the gallery opening
i will insert my solemn promise to style until my limbs burst
well what do you have to offer
Dancing on the kill floor, i kill for a living
take these cyanide eye-drops
-don t you think you re hot shit, dancing on the kill floor
i can do it blindfolded with no road atlas
When i m racing in carpool lane, you can join my suicide cult
Giving me the once-over, tell me the name of your political activist key person
negotiate with marketing consultants
clients butchered to a film score
they would like me to convert my gritty edge
led ventures
cd duplicators make vegans
with a group of umpla-lumpa parachute troopers
Makes your heat pistons freeze, when a will jump in my primordial pool Kill, wave your valid parking tickets
Covered in shell fragments of this, take these cyanide eye-drops, my distance between art and commerce
and peppermint hemlock
Cd duplicators make vegans, i m a hallucinogen pez-dispenser, i will insert my solemn promise to style until my limbs burst
Dancing on the kill floor, i kill for a living
Clients butchered to a film score, it s a meat tenderizer at the gallery opening On, a dead archetype able to be purchased on a credit card swipe
-don t you think you re hot shit, contrast bohemia to my workplace
clients butchered to a film score
I can do it blindfolded with no road atlas, like it s my cathartic something, when i m racing in carpool lane
i will insert my solemn promise to style until my limbs burst