A clockwork night
Me and the gang out for the old drunkin howl,
The glory of violence oh brothers,
oh bliss.
The beautiful swell of bones breaking on cement
With idle hands the quiver comes quick.
What is a man to do when he craves the ultraviolance.
When the viddy no longer gives such desires with stark clarity.
The old vino runs red, true dear brothers,
but the reddest river streams hot from flesh.
The glory of stripping for the old in out,
then ripping above the screams,
Hear the music,
like the strings above the violin swell.
Sweet Ludwig knows the potency.
The fun my brothers, the thrill
On a night like this, oh bliss
Gitty we walk the edge.