Maybe I love the taste,
Love the waxing hours
Romanticizing death
On the floor of a party
Oh, it’s a bitter demon
Who’s not without a toasted note;
Variety spices my life
Breach a castle, swallow its moat
You got me all wrong,
I’m not calling the shots
I’m the voyeur in this bloated carcass
I may dine in this temple of debauchery,
but I permeate it’s walls
I left the controls at the door
when I lifted the prey
and why not? This is my prime
I’m content to waste away.