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