原文歌詞
EN翻訳はまだありません。原文を表示しています。
His schizoid personality
Fragmented at the age of eight
His grandmother brought him to me
For treatment, but it was too late
For he has tasted blood
And his mind- his mind is mud
And it's black, oozing mud
His cannibalistic urges
Originated who knows where
I can't make my diagnosis
He nauseates me, I don't care
For he has made me sick
And his mind- his mind is shit
And in the black, a wicked wit
And if it wasn't illegal
I'd cut his throat with a penknife
I'd hang his bones in my office
If it wasn't immoral
For I have tasted blood
And my mind...
