My prize, my punishment
You swore you’d fuck me, fuck me up
Now I’m just fucked off, not fucked-up, like you
You swore you’d fuck me, fuck me up
You virulent cancer—infecting canker
But another song, an extra notch, and a brand new sound
that goes ‘you’re worthless, second-rate, spitting pain, spreading hate’
But another song, an extra notch, and a brand new sound
that goes ‘you’re worthless, second-rate, spitting pain, spreading hate
Hour upon hour, a fucked-up flower desperate for some power
Hour upon hour, a fucked-up flower desperate for some power
Your violence-anger-sex distorted (sorry for you)
A fetish to fit, a perfect collar for your psychosis
Your violence-anger-sex distorted (sorry for you)
A fetish to fit, a captive dominatrix
Hour upon hour, a fucked-up flower scared. Devoured
Hour upon hour, a fucked-up flower scared. Devoured
Serial-killer material (as if!)
Abused trainee-abuser, you cum-soaked user
Serial-killer material (they’ll catch you!)
Abused trainee-abuser, your pitiable nature
Hour upon hour, a fucked-up flower scared. Devoured
Hour upon hour, a fucked-up flower scared. Devoured
There, there—all said, all done
My rite, my song
These thoughts, this hate…
With the snap of finger and thumb
Are gone. Are done
Lyrics © Matt Howden. Published by Werk 4/Universal
