What's a pretty little thing like you
Doin' in this dingy old back room?
I got some candy,
A piece for every bruise.
You can grab it if it's handy, cuz any cock'll do.

Now dance to the beat of the slow, slow turn
Of the world as it weeps in this slow, slow burn.
And the shoes on your feet ain't set to return.
I'm the one who's walking out alone.
You won't need those sandals where you're going.
Cuz little baby, you ain't ever goin' home.

And the last sounds that you'll ever know
Are the vultures crying "Whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-no"
And soon they'll be picking at your bones.
They'll be picking at your bones
They'll be picking at your bones
Whoa-whoa-whoa

I caught you in the bathroom in a real wide stance.
I caught you down by the lagoon with my hands down your pants
On an old dirty mattress with stains and yellow scarves
I start out watching then I get so hard.
And you won't need that mattress where you're going.
And I'm the one who's walking out alone.
And mister, you ain't ever going home.

Cuz the last sound that you'll ever know
Is my bonesaw grinding "Whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-no"
Soon we'll be chipping at your bones.
We'll be chipping at your bones
We'll be chipping at your bones
Whoa-whoa-whoa

Every single plan I make has been informed by these sour grapes.
I've got one last death to fake before I settle down
On the last burning block of the last burning town
Where the devil and behemoth have been hanging around
And I don't miss that old crowd.
I do not miss that old crowd.
So goddamned lazy and loud.

And the last sound that I'll ever know is my heart exploding
"Whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-no"
Soon I'll be nothing but these bones.
I'll be nothing but these bones
I'll be nothing but these bones
I don't need this bullshit where I'm going.
And I don't think I'm ever going home.
And I'm the one who's walking out alone

So bitch, quit your fucking crying.