Rolling down a corridor which is long grey (dark and dusty)
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Hear the screaming sound of rubber wheels on plastic (floors)
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Crying out his need for blood the motorpsycho is (mad and thirsty)
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He'll catch up on you too late to reach the exit (door)
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he's a motorpsycho of wire and steel, motorpsycho on rubberwheels,
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rubberwheels and killing pain and the motorpsycho has done it again (and again!)
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Razors on revolving arms are cutting slowly (through his body)
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Metal Laughter is echoing into a moonless (night)
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Motorpsycho happiness is a mass morbid and (truly bloody)
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This corridor to hell is his kingdom of (delight)
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He's a motorpsycho of wire and steel, motorpsycho on rubberwheels,
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rubberwheels and killing pain and the motorpsycho has done it again (and again!)
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Motorpsycho
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| Nekromantix |
