Rothenberg

He's just a simple man,
Unlike anybody else.
He loves the smell of burning flesh,
He loves the scent of hell.
You can see the flames above the palms they light up the sky,
They anger the horizon.

He's living off machines,
And he's slowing his breathing still,
Sewn in gauze,
He won't, he won't, know what it's like, to feel lost.
Leave your flesh behind.
My son, my son, you'll simply have to … burn!

Oh but drowning’s far too sweet,
Feel the hate in heat.
But gasoline is cheap,
We’ll do it while you sleep. (While you sleep)

Your marbled skin,
Parades his sin,
And if you survive,
You’ll feel so alive.

His Marbled skin,
Parades his sin,
And if you survive,
You’ll feel so alive.