One for nothing and two for no one
three hours of sleep on four (ha ha ha ha) five minutes to get ready,
six if I run seven minutes in heaven for eight hours in hell
I don't want to be a seed for you to plant now
At the mercy of those who hold the plow
Who keeps swinging on the utters of the cash cow
Your bean stalks decaying in the clouds now
And I'll plant these veins for you in shades of red white
and blue and killing is all I ever know and gazing into your eyes,
I'll buy all your sweet little lies and kill until I can kill like you