shit on me for a bit, but the rain's startin to come out and wash it all away
and I'm starting to remember exactly why I went insane
the memories splayed out like napkins
on the blood spattered walls
catching all the droplets
until slowly apart they fall
I'm starting to grow older now, I can hardly see me face
beneath the scars and history
the etches in my bones fill some form of need
and the needle bleeds
Wretched cassanova slain
recoiled and shrunken down
slithering away softly beaten
the operation succesful transplant
now the rain has washed away
I can see my true face
covered in grooves and teeth
it is become death
the real me
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