VERSE 1
The seasons change and so does my mood
What good does it do to sit around and brood?
I’ve got a chain whip curled up on my hip
I’ve got enemies who need an afterlife trip
They took my soul and my intelligence
In my mind they took up permanent residence
Took my creativity and everything with it
How many chain lashes must be given?
CHORUS
One! Two! Black and blue!
Three! Four! Let’s go to war!
Five! Six! Suck it, bitch!
Here comes the chain whip!
VERSE 2
Maybe whiplashes aren’t the answer
Strangulation doesn’t seem much faster
Chokehold suplex tickles my fancy
The anticipation makes me feel antsy
I’ve got a psychotic grin on my face
As your blood splatters all over the place
Your skin shredded, your bones broken
Your thick skull has been split wide open
CHORUS
One! Two! Black and blue!
Three! Four! Let’s go to war!
Five! Six! Suck it, bitch!
Here comes the chain whip!
VERSE 3
If war is the answer, what’s the question?
What other solutions are even worth mention?
Should I shake your hand and call it a truce?
Should I suck your dick as even further proof?
Should I give you a hug? Accept your apology?
Or is this another instance of reverse psychology?
An iron head butt for your pretty little head
A hundred lashes even after you’re dead
EXTENDED CHORUS
One! Two! Black and blue!
Three! Four! Let’s go to war!
Five! Six! Suck it, bitch!
Here comes the chain whip!
Seven! Eight! Bring on the hate!
Nine! Ten! Your reign will end!
Eleven! Twelve! See you in hell!
Thirteen! Fourteen! Scarlet dreams!
Keep on counting the lashes!
Dust to dust! Ashes to ashes!
It’s not that I don’t believe in love. It’s that love
doesn’t believe in me. FUCK LOVE!
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