scab filled with puss Guns 'R Us (*Gun cock*), so bury me and my sarcophagus Then I'm on fuckin' hearts, and body parts get torn The Angel of Death kills
plop forever slayed, slide you inside the cremation chamber the system of erasing your existance with the flames of nature free basin angel dust is danger, euthanasia methods of death
rot I hate you to a level of intoxication Don't feel alone, I've got enough I wish you slow death, slow death by grinding Fuel for Hatred, air raid siren
blow-flies, these is all of my little angels That go 'round helpin' me do the best parts of my meanness And mosquiter's Well, I used to be a pretty fair organized
let the poison be administered Then watch your body mathematically like integer No way of escaping the deaths and graphs of harm Sign your Biblical will with dead angel
With the martyrs eight For striking in Chicago, Death would have to be my fate I cut the timber in Centralia, Nearly broke my back Tried to organize
the blow-flies -- These is all of my little angels That go 'round helpin' me do the best parts of my meanness. And mosquiters... Well, I used to be a pretty fair organized
are reflected, The endless road and the wailing of chimes, The empty rooms where her memory is protected, Where the angels' voices whisper to the souls
I answer for that Apologize to my fam I got you all dressing in black (I hear ya) A long line family and friends they signing in My niece singing solo organs
he pulls her close, whispers "I love you" to her lobes unbeknownst to the dichotomy in the beauty that he beholds I love her now, and even after death
the annals of my neck panel The docotomy, my word logic locks you And stops you from breathing out, until the death angel adopts you You wanna have it
dog soldiers are reflected The endless road and the wailing of chimes The empty rooms where her memory is protected Where the angel's voices whisper to
organ incisions get you sick While you puke up what you chewed up, Now chew up what you threw up Left in the morgue, food, flesh for a dog Funeral organs
blazin' angel, known for raisin hell, And we don't plan on changin'. [Chorus:] New breed, full blooded thoroughbreds. Organized, don't kill without
alive it's crackin; this is organized street hustlin with corporate backin promotin interstate traffic (traffic) Classic, smash out right Cause live from Los Angeles
wouldn't be there Would you organize too? We are the angels under cloaks in devil's clothing Would you resist, would you insist? Would you organize too