Everyone I see's diseased or broken, holes in their arms they got cocaine eyes Self mutilation is self surveillance, wanna get to heaven you gotta die Little Johnny Junk's a subway pilot, he'll knife you in the head for Chinese rock Catch a falling spike ride a silver rocket, score a body bag deal from the Vietcong Your meat on a hook in your own snuff movie, tortue loop hallucination nerves spliced No innoculation from the viral programme, there's spiders in your mouth shoot insecticide Here she comes here she comes, she's crawled out of a garbage can Here she comes here she comes, she's gonna waste another man Ah sick city, gonna to be the death of me Ah sick city, gonna be my death, gonna be the death of me Sick sick city, sick city