the parasites are excited when you're dead, eyes bulging, entering your head.
and all your thoughts, yeah, they rot.
god and satan gamble when you're dead.
beams of light one's sprite the other's bourbon instead.
and all your thoughts, yeah, they rot.
it was hot and time was stickin' to my skin.
we're all the punch line to the joke that they won't let us in on.
and all your thoughts, yeah, they rot.