Texty: Silverchair. The Best Of: Vol. 1. Israels Son.

Hate is what I feel for you
And I want you to know that I want you dead
You're late for the execution
If you're not here soon, I'll kill your friend instead

All the pain I feel
Couldn't start to heal
Although I would like it to

I hate you and your apathy
You can leave, you can leave, I don't want you here
I'm playing this pantomime
But I don't see you showing any signs of fear

All the pain I feel
Couldn't start to heal
Although I would like it to

This time I'm for real
My pain can not heal
You will be dead when I'm through

Hate is what I feel for you
And I want you to know that I want you dead
You're late for the execution
If you're not here soon, I'll kill your friend instead

All the pain I feel
Couldn't start to heal
Although I would like it to

This time I'm for real
My pain can not heal
You will be dead when I'm through, through, through

Pain and execution
Put your hands in the air
Put your hands in the air
The air, yeah

I am, I am Israel's son
Israel's son I am
Put your hands in the air
Put your hands in the air

I am, I am Israel's son
Israel's son I am
Put your hands in the air
Put your hands in the air