Songtexte: Children Of Bodom. Pussyfoot Miss Suicide.

Hey there, I think I know you,
what was it, you're condending to do?
That's rite, manipulate everyone
around to deem you're over due

You try to slit your wrists
with a dry, blunt block of wood
upgrade it to a grater and still won't do no good

C'mon Miss Suicide, let me hand my blade
to you. And since we're here
you might as well cut me too.

Like an acid flashback, it all came
back to me
Slipped to drop a hit of you, one second later
I vomit I od'd.. oh yes indeed

You try to slit your wrists
with a dry, blunt block of wood
upgrade it to a grater and still won't do no good

C'mon Miss Suicide, let me hand my blade
to you. And since we're here
you might as well cut me too.

Miss Suicide, let me get the door for you
let me love you black and blue
it's the least that I could do
Miss Suicide show me the way to go to the floor way
down below
it's just a trifle hunch, that I'll beat u to the punch