A Noxious Concoction
Take the star
Throwing it out
Leave it out the yard
Picking the star
Holding me out
Face it
Oh, do not
Do not hide

You, you might be nice
You, you might be nice
If you want to talk to me
These words, I come, I do
I do, yes I do, yes I do

God is adopted through all the disease
But holds the concoction who laughs at me (ha ha)
Leaving me backless to this tune-coughing
Do you want to kill me now
Do you want to kill me yet
Ha ha, ask Tendon if you can
Take the corpse
Figure it out
Leave it out the yard
Kneed the skull
Waking it up
Listen, I do not deny
You might be nice
You might be nice
If you want to talk to me
These words, I come, I do
I do, yes I do, yes I do, yes I do
Yes I do