though I will be your judge and jury
crushing your skull won't quell my fury

the world is not made of flowers, is it?
neither am I
if you smell a bullet
passing through your nose
red as a rose
let it be mine

the world is not made of music, is it?
neither am I
if you hear an arrow
passing through your ear
and out your rear
let it be mine

the world is not made of sunlight, is it?
neither am I
if you see a dagger
passing through your eye
and then you die
let it be mine

and while my anger still increases
I'll piss on all your little pieces