though I will be your judge and jury crushing your skull won't quell my fury the world is not made of flowers, is it? neither am I if you smell a bullet passing through your nose red as a rose let it be mine the world is not made of music, is it? neither am I if you hear an arrow passing through your ear and out your rear let it be mine the world is not made of sunlight, is it? neither am I if you see a dagger passing through your eye and then you die let it be mine and while my anger still increases I'll piss on all your little pieces