Waiting for dinner conversations
To turn into a slaughtering affair
So we begin, waiting for the massacre
To hit you in the head, so we begin
Our tongue breaking degradation set to please
But if you think we'd degrade ourselves
Then you've clearly been had
When "death and destruction"
Is the only measure of our state of content
Our tongue breaking degradation set to please
Holding on to something real by an arms length
It ain't over 'til the writing's on the wall
These will be the final words, may you choke on them