Hosannas from the Basements of Hell

I harbour thoughts of killing you pour petrol on you and then on me but then i walk down the stairs and killing joke waits for me there then we play - go psycho

With sticks and stones and bones beneath our homes we face ourselves hosannas rising from the basements of hell

Anger that poisons my heart eating your liver and heart like voodoo just play until you bleed lost in the noise i am free i'm not a murderer yet