Nitlott

I see the world through sunglasses
You stand at Mr. Death's pain threshold

You are a perfect start to a lousy day
Everything you've forgotten, and everything you've repressed
Now the whole universe comes back
Like a thousand and a thousand stabs
An icy wind of AIDS-infected razor blades
I call you a whore for a reason

It was like a frozen night in St. Petersburg
When the Eastern Bloc cold wasn't exactly on your side
Thin, stringy hair, threads of soul distress
The gases emitted from your anorexic
Lung-diseased body were suffocating
Dressed in rags, afflicted with venereal diseases

You are dragged down into the pitch-black corruption
Tears don't give a free pass from here
Instead, you drew the short straw of misfortune
You have always been dead in my eyes
You will now be in others' eyes too
Die for the world, which is next in line

Slowly your short life disappears
I ejaculate on your bone-white corpse