Hosannas From The Basements Of Hell

I harbor thoughts of killing you pour petrol on you and then on me
But then I walk down the stairs and killing joke waits
for me there then we play —
Go psycho
With sticks and stones and bones beneath our homes
We face ourselves hosannas rising from the basements of hell
Anger that poisons my heart eating your liver and heart like voodoo
Just play until you bleed lost in the noise I am free
I’m not a murderer yet