5,4,3,2

The pulse of the night is silenced with that beat
That haunts me in my car and every time I try to sleep
In an elevator, it haunts me underground
How can anyone again want to hear this programmed sound

Need to find the source of this kryptonite
Need to find my sanity before the hint of morning light
Blood hits the floor at a calculated rate
creates percussion to the sounds soon that I intimidate

I'm gonna slice your throat to the beat of the massacre
Your jugular shoots blood to the rhythm of love

I'm gonna shoot through your skull to the beat of the massacre
The dance floor soaked with the blood of hippie hobo hipsters

I'm gonna snap your bones to the beat of the massacre
Omoplota, gogoplota, cook your limbs on fresh fococcia

Yeah, I'll electrocute you to the beat of the massacre
A shock to your system that's taken from a live substation

(Whoa) I'm gonna smash your speakers apart
(Whoa) I'm gonna flip this fucking shopping cart

There are many ways that I can lend a hand
When your situation reaps extinction, warrants death
across the land
For your limbs on the ground you scrounge
I left my shotgun at The Assassin's Lounge!

If you don't shut that fuckin' shit off,
I'm gonna take that radio and shove it
So far up your fucking ass,
The antenna's gonna come outta your eye sockets!

I'm gonna cheese grate your face to the beat of the massacre
Like a paper shredded face that I'll hang from the limo mirror

I'm gonna light you on fire to the beat of the massacre
Burn your skin and peel it back before I lick it raw

(Finally it happened to me, right in front in my face and I just cannot hide it)

I'm gonna poison your food to the beat of the massacre
Unless you're Rasputin, then this arsenic has too much gluten

(Finally it happened to me, right in front in my face and I just can't describe it)

I'll interrupt your eulogy to the beat of the massacre
Your dances may live on but your soul is forever gone