bloated, you fucking santa vaca
piccato originale
so the candy was just child’s play?
I can see that you’ve misread,
from the powder on your brain, content
crawling crooked, withered aortae
I profit from your heart’s decay

devoid of hue and all I ask of you is to make me fall awake
atroph-I sip cyanide, you swollen fake,
rotting softly for your sweetened sake

rub my gut — feel my filth
dear powder-white Satan,
how’d I do this to myself?
rub my gut — feel my filth
dear powder-white Satan,
how’d I do this to myself?
whatcha gonna do when the heart beats too?
whatcha gonna do when the heart beats too?
whatcha gonna do when the heart beats two?

[I know what’s coming to you
and you know what’s coming too
and I know what’s coming to you
and you know what’s coming too]

I sell visions of sugar-plums inside your head
binge feed the children snuggled safe inside their beds
filthy pockets lined with your peddled wealth
dear powder-white Satan,
you only did this to yourself

bloated, you fucking santa vaca
piccato originale
so the candy was just child’s play?

rub my gut — feel my filth
dear powder-white Satan,
how’d I do this to myself?
rub my gut — feel my filth
dear powder-white Satan,
how’d I do this to myself?

whatcha gonna do when the heart beats too?
whatcha gonna do when the heart beats too?
whatcha gonna do when the heart beats two?