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open up the gun store
drain the dead cupid's eyes
bite the bit your soul is bleeding
tender in the formaldehyde
breath deep the flesh bouquets
sever the base at the spine
take the tears off of the rats now
release the napalm in your mind
they have found the glory hole
they have found the glory hole
they have found the glory hole
they have found the glory hole
kill God's curse soldiers burn them
as we nail him to the cross
line them up all around you
mass protection you're the boss
dine on olives crisp and bitter
worms beg for prison food
jostle it up and gut the singer
consume him with God's kerosene
they have found the glory hole
they have found the glory hole
they have found the glory hole
they have found the glory hole
open up the gun store
bite the bit you're bleeding
©2014, Timothy James Swenson