Monsterhouse Service

I commune with gulls who circle around my house
Move my dark feelings when the sun touches down onto the ground
I look at myself grinning from ear to ear, a rifle in my hands
I hear their screams before they leave their mouths

Get a grip for this trip,
Invite me to your hated feeling,
Show me your house

'My gasping gets lower,
My glare gets colder,
My head grows larger and larger!'

Unclean! Soon it will happen, dead flowers and a hard working man
Debate about a new form of religion, unspoken words
Moulder in my mouth,claimed by endless fictions,
Burns my hope of a bad nutrition

'Welter in a sea of tears, blood surrounds me'
Look at my blue scarped mind, smooth cold fingers caress my skin
Feel the unwounded energy of a natural smile,
Smash all the honey of a rising sin
And when I get so fat, I'll give you a bloody piece of my fin

Please! Get a little bit closer, close enough to realize I ain't no friend,
Close enough to realize god shot a hole in his pale grey head,
Close enough to realize that I'm pumping you full of hate,
Turning around your wonderful fate I'm the man with the rifle