Waiting for dinner conversations to turn into a slaughtering affair, so we begin, waiting for the massacre to hit you in the head, so we begin
Our tongue breaking degradation set to please

But if you think we'd degrade ourselves then you've clearly been had
When "death and destruction" is the only measure of our state of content

Our tongue breaking degradation set to please

Holding on to something real by an arms length -- It ain't over 'till the writing's on the wall

These will be the final words, may you choke on them