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... and things are killing me
But I'm on top of it.

Little lover look into my eyes
The only things that make you wanna die.
And oh you will
And little songs and other things are gone
Insane, I'm sure there's never been a one
And all the whispers in your dream
It's on your waking face a morning you will no more sink in sorrow.

Fight the fever
Burn like fire

And I don't buy what you're selling me
... and things are killing me
But I'm on top of it.

Little girls laugh at a go
So I go just like animal and bite nails
Will I leave and let yourself to scream and I hold

Run away. You're in the devil's kitchen

I don't buy, I don't buy what you're selling me
... and things are killing me
But I'm on top of it.

The body, the body the body of death.