Lyrics:
My name is mr. touchshriekOf touchshriek with mail over and fantasyMy shop sells egg shells off the shesores and empty femalesI'm thinking of leasing the room above my shopTo a mr. walloff domburgA reject from the world wide internetHe's a broken manI'm also a broken manIt would be nice to have companyWe could have great conversationsLooking through windows for demonsAnd watching the young advance in all electricSome of the houses around here still haveInhabitants in themI'm not sure if they're from this country or notI don't get to speak much to anyone or that sort of thingIf I had another broken nameOh, I dream of something like that