Laying in my bed i think of many horror tales.
yet i better move my bed is made of nails.
i try to roll off my skin slowly tears away.
my flesh is stuck to the bed as i begin my day.
walking out the house this morning the sky is red.
the streets are crowded with the bodies of the living dead.
they're tryin' a die they're jumping off a roof tops.
they only scream in pain as their body flops.
i rather stay inside my home and only pray to die.
but my house has been on fire since like `85.
i can only stand a night of the fatal smoke.
but see you never die, you only burn and choke.
and so i leave out the house, and walk the land.
wild pigs run and feed off the dying men.
and look around you, there's bodies hanging from the trees,
but they're not dying, they're only crying, "please!"
i hear the thunder in the sky so i run and hide.
the deli raymay soon come down, you've got to get inside.
the lunatics see the lightning, they're screaming, "yes!"
it's raining blood, the streets are a bloody mess.
about once or twice a week, though, with thunderstorms.
that's when giant, heavy, red and black clouds form.
it's raining blood, kidneys, and livers from the sky.
prepare, cuz when you die, you're coming to the killing fields.
(chorus):
(come, come on down, down.)
"what shall they be? what shall they be? when that fine moment comes."
(come, come on down, down.)
"when the curtains are drawn, the windows are shut, doors closed, and you've
written
what you've written, you've said it, that's it!" (coming to the killing fields)
(come, come on down, down.)
"what will they all be? what about it mister, when you've had you're last beer?
(come, come on down, down.)
you've laughed at you're family and laughed at you're little wife. she begs you
not to go
out to that bar."
(end chorus)
As i feed off a dead pig, i'm thinking back.
to when i had a heartbeat, and how i would act.
i would steal from the poor. i'd laugh at the sick.
but in the killing fields, you'd get your fucking neck ripped!
so as i walk along i meet a lot of strange folks.
some people with no eyes, and gashed open throats.
and if they notice your eyeballs are working well,
the try ta dig them out your skull, and go for self.
now in the summertime, it's like a whole other realm.
water becomes fire, and oceans overwhelm.
to walk outside, the heat will surely cook your brains
try to run across the street, your hair will burst ta flames.
victims in a panic run from the heat and light,
underneath the city, into the sewer pipes.
until the fire's gone this becomes your new land.
but, there's no food so you feed off the other men.
and now it's been seven months, i'm barely fed.
i chase a baby billy goat with a human's head.
it's steady screamin' "lemme be, lemme be!"
but while i chase it there's another demon chasin' me.
all of time moves backwards, i'm growing old.
and still the clouds are burning fire, and so i'm told
that there's a lot of living souls such as the rich,
that choose to live like a bitch.
see you in the killing fields!
(chorus):
(come, come on down, down.)
"youve had your big time in lust, sin, and filth!"
(come, come on down, down.)
"what is it going to be when you realize the time is up? you've crossed the
finish line!
going in the wrong direction." (i'll see you in the killing fields)
(come, come on down, down.)
"what shall they all be? what about it gentlemen? when you've spent your life
in a few
years' time?"
(come, come on down, down.)
"your a burned up shell at 25 years of age. what shall they all be?" what
about it?
(end chorus)
You can go to hell hell hell hell hell
"what shall they all be?"
(repeat 5x)
come, come on down, down.
come, come on down, down. (you're coming to the killing fields!) (w/ echo)
come, come on down, down.
come, come on down, down.
(repeat w/ fade out)