He knows... Slash wrists, scarlet fever
Crawl under your bedroom door
Pumping arteries ooze their problems
Through the gap that the razor tore
You've got venom in your stomach
You've got poison in your head
You should have listened to your analyst's
Questions when you lay on his leather bed
He knows, you know, he knows, you know
He knows, you know, but he's got problems
Blank eyes, purple fever streaming through the frosted panes
You learned your lesson far too late from the links in a chemist chain
You've got venom in your stomach, You've got poison in your head
You should have stayed at home and talked
With father listen to the lies he fed