Lyrics:

Hunter of tears, relative pain Half of this world is dark with the stain The stain of unknowing, the dead flower buds On smiling lips is innocent blood, oh yeah The corpse of your god can only rot and grow old Now promise me you'll kill me before I get old I hear you on the telephone moaning my doom A cold woman will kill me in a darkened room, oh yeah Just enough a holy tag Seal the mind like body-bag Take me, hold me, make me love Bite the head off of a dove Take your time and take your life And you'll taste, there is no life The head we feed is on a stick Stir my pain with an ice-pick Pick Pick Pick! Pick Pick Pick! Pick Pick Pick! The chain-saw smile of the mortician shines I still got all my fingers but somewhere I lost my mind I can smell abortion on you, I can see through Take the gun out of my mouth and point it at you