Texty:
Tormentor

At last I am born Historians notes I am finally born I once used to chase Affection withdrawn But now I just sit back and yawn Because I am born, born

Armed with wealth and good health The best of health In the future when all's well I will lie down and be counted In the future when all's well I thank

I am walking through Rome With my heart on a string Dear God, please help me And I am so very tired Of doing the right thing Dear God, please help me

Ooh, a working-class face glares back At me from the glass and lurches, oh Forgive me, on the street's I ran Turned sickness into, popular song Streets

Stepchild, you have outlived your time You represent embarrassment and failure And the father who must be killed Is the blight upon your blighted life

Pasolini is me, 'Accattone' you'll be I entered nothing and nothing entered me 'Til you came with the key And you did your best but As I live and breathe

The youngest was the most loved The youngest was the shielded We kept him from the world's glare And he turned into a killer Retrousse nose Turned up

walls trapped within yellow eyes the cutters drooling face rips apart cuts to the heart disease shown let it out movement crosses crimson light washes

defecate in that bush Crouds of people arae walking the street There is no place where you can put your shit Brown tormentor is pressing your ass Shit