Lyrics:

Hey, knuckle-nicksI''ll tell you:It''s helpingI''ll tell you:You''re doing the right thingI can see you''re usedAnd I don''t know where you''ve beenBut I do know past failures still haunt youThoughtless slow remarks you later regretIt''s hard to own up and take the blameFor being a nervous gibbering wreckSo go on be a careless fucking onlookerSo you can sit and not-think about painI know about gasping attacks and mirror-bloodI know about shitbags and shameI know a fuckload more than you realiseA fuck of a lot more than you thinkI know why you can take a kissBut not a bone-count hugI know you bite your fat banana fingernailsAnd I know why you''d need to shaveI know you''re a slow fussy pathetic eaterAnd I know you don''t sleep muchBut I''ll still tell you:It''s helpingAnd I''ll still tell you:You''re doing the right thingQuestion: did you ever hurt yourself to make somebody sorry?How often do you pretend to be sick?You ever wanted something very much but never told anybody about it?Are you such a slug you can''t live without a fucking sundae?You ever made a bit too much fuss over your cuts?Yes, the cutting will be quite dramaticIf you get the crisscross slit rightAnd show an exposed piece of boneReady for harvestAnd in a few seconds'' time:In a drop of anal red the poisonAnd your totally disgusting diseased unkempt disgusting excuse of a bodyContinues to reactTill mere days after the cuttingThe cancer says well helloIn between fairground muscle twitchesAnd clearly white scaly shitTinkerboy says burnt it outThe little cunt doesn''t know what the fuck he''s talking aboutAnd just weeks after the cuttingYou really don''t knowHow well can you imagineHow soon cheap tears are forgottenBecause there''s no wasted kleenex or sympathyNobody would give a fucking tossFor a quasi-glamour of your symptomsFor your Russell''s signAnd for your atrocious sleepless lucidityBecause what if they were provoked?It''s prefectness and it''s all thereNo more pointless trawling through self-helped books for triggering examplesNo more daytime trash or drunken wisdomAt first it seems not to be workingTill you get that imitation of dangerThat means you can no longer convince yourself it''s not workingMore and more and moreSo right now would be a good time for blackmailWho have you ever tried to make guilty?Have you ever told on anyone?What somebody has told you not to tellMy question: I said have you ever told on anyone?Yet I''ll tell you:It''s helpingAnd I''ll tell you:You''re doing the right thingMore and more you wonder if anyone really gives a fuckDo you sometimes feel that:You talk too muchYou don''t listen enoughDo you admit to letting others push you around?Who''s pushing you around now?Who''s hitting on you now?Who''s the pervert hitting on you now, kuckle-nicks?Has he successfully perverted an ethic?Has he destroyed a doll body?I''ll show you what''s it like not to have handsAnd I''ll show you how to hold on tightI''ll show you how to piss on your own bedclothesAnd sit in a closetYou''ll learn to sweat while unconsciousAnd I''ll show you the electric stickYou''ll learn about the kitty-cutBefore the privilege of seeing your own bloodI''ll let you suck brown-brown and clairilSo you know how papa''s so braveI''ll show you the wide-awake nightmareAnd now you can buy some fucking fearSo new question: can you:Spot a person who''s like me?Can you:Imagine a difference between their body and yours?Can you:Imagine a person who looks like me?Could you:Spot a person who looks unlike you?Can you:Spot a person who''s how you want to be?Can you:Imagine a person who you''d never want to be?Transferring people is a fucking degrading thing to do to themAnd one day the you''ll understand thatOne day the you''ll understand that:Cut hands has the solutionWe''ll feed you to every hungry birdWe''ll feed you to every starving animalAnd we''ll let them eat fat till they''re fullAnd will let them drink blood till they''re drunkAs I tell you:It''s helpingWhile I tell you:You''re doing the right thing