A nothingness is

Number in the jungle, turned up with nothing
But a loin cloth to protect your tender *****
From what's danger and the wildlife
Hush in your blood

To hear the gr*** break
Break beneath a different thing
Of where the edible the thread
The clump the thieves too
The hung strung around your neck

Put the matches in your left hand
Something sharp in your right
Fact when one first finds themselves to kill
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill

And while the killing will grow easy
It will never grow less complicated
Why, what kind of killer are you?
Did you dig through and see death unfinished

And did you just shut your breath and survive?
What kind of killer are you, did you decide?
You'd rather starve than go on taking the stage
There's a naturalistic degree up on the guts spray

Did you decide you'd rather starve
Than go on taking the stage?
Decide you'd rather starve
Than go on taking the stage

When one first finds themselves to kill
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill
When one first finds themselves to kill
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill

When one first finds themselves to kill
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill
When one first finds themselves to kill
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill

When one first finds themselves to kill
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill
When one first finds themselves to kill
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill

When one first finds themselves to kill
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill
When one first finds themselves to kill
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill

Killer, killer, killer, killer

Killer, is it you was? Is you what?
Killer, is it you was? Is you what?
Killer, is it you was? Is you what?
Killer, is it you was?

And when you always eat around the wishbone
And thank your ****s
You're calling for what's called destruction
And then you still feel deathful

With only matchs, weapon and less questions
And would you now to serve small slices of unraveled human arm
Or dig your tongue or which you now dig
Past your stomach from the rungs of the ill or the young

And is this the full of which you've come
But just when there is none
Knowing only to survive the scarred
Deathful and the one dusk of what's done
And so I ask, what kind of killer are you?
Where'd you become?

Did you, dig through?
It's death affection
Did you, dig through?
It's death affection

Did you when one first finds themselves to kill gig through?
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill
It's death when one first finds themselves to kill
Affection, they will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill

Did you when one first finds themselves to kill dig through?
They will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill
It's death when one first finds themselves to kill
Affection, they will be lucky to fall, even the old and the ill