Not A Lovesong
By Frank Peter Hermsen
I believe in the thrill of the hunt
My venes´re infected by the smell of my gun
To sweat to swallow to kill to strike
Is my therapy to protect my rights
I´ll be with you don´t have a choice
I watch you sleeping hear your voice
Your raging against my mind
But I´m the knot in your lifeline
This is not a lovesong
Call me facist spoil my ground
I´m the first and last to be around
I kiss your lips for twenty pounds
And when You explode I will be the sound
I´m the acid air you´ve gotta breathe
I kill your family as soon as you leave
I´m the dirty floor on which you sleep
And my sense of purity is endless deep