Well, o-hell-o, my bleeding heart crunchy and glace,
Could I come near your beauty with my nails,
I'd set my ten commandments in your face,
Smell you, dissect you and put on the scales.
This is just a genetically modified freak show
With bearded women and jugglers and clowns
And everyone comes and goes only for dough
But my belly thirsts not for pennies, not for pounds,
It craves your intestines, acid, sweets and treats,
It will feed you with your own flesh and eat you up,
It will stretch you, unwrap you, soil your bed-sheets,
It is gory, it is monstrous, it always takes the richest lump.
Pals, I’ll scoop your brains, grab a straw and drink your blood.
My worm-farm on the freeway soon will be subdued
And bets will bite and rats will race and mud will flood —
Well, goodbye, my bleeding heart, you’re an expired food.