It seems to be cold in here
Inside the empty head
Of you, the end of you. when
You speak, your pink, pink snout
Spouts out poison, and
Wihtout a doubt they believe
In you... idiots, well i know, yes
I know what this about, i
Have most definately figured you
Out, behind your vile smile
There is more teeth then i can
Count and a pair of hounds to go
With your lying again.