Texty: GG Allin. Murder Junkies. Immortal Pieces Of Me.

Pieces of me in a bottle
Slivers of glass melt through bullets
Magnetic fingers bring you up from a
Dark
And dirty prison cell survival
As rats scurry through ashes for my scraps
My shimmering mind from a turn of a hand
Sets the countdown to activate my boiling point
Flashbacks of Hanover Street sticks of the eye
From there 'til now sandwiched the war
Do you remember that time
The burning bridges and the burning houses
Yes as we slept and crept the streets away
As we looked for people in our prey
Took you fucking down 'til your last day
The war began
But so little compassion was built from the base
1956 Jesus Christ Allin
Jesus Christ Allin
As the time went
You do what you do
The pathical...
The pathological eyes are victory's friend
As my irrational thinking leaves me indiscretion
But it will only compensate my vengeful furry
As every ninety-seven cents as shattered illusions
Visuals we keep are long and lonely
As my ambush hits hard on enemy lines
My ambush hits hard on enemy lines
My ambush hits hard
On enemy lines
As society's backfire weakens its link
We must always ready ourselves to engage
And not defect when the duel is on
Think not it will happen
For surely it will
But nothing assures immunity
From the immortal pieces of me