What are you? I say to me
A privileged machine man in the valley of the ice house
Yeah? Joke so old that it is new
'Cause the innocent, they know their place
In this slug motion dinosaur
Skin beating, heart breathing
Eyes humming, walls splashing
Blue blood spits from the butcher boy
Just split the head and stand back
Out of the chaos comes a reason whipcord, yeah
Hell on earth, a semi-trane
Expression of pre-occupation skin beating