Laying in my bed, I think of many horror tales 

Yet I barely move, my bed is made of nails 

I try to roll, my skin slowly tears away 

My flesh is stuck to my 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 trying to die, they're leaping off of roof tops 

Uh, they only scream in pain as their body flops 

I'd rather stay inside my home and only pray to die 

But my house is 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 

So I leave out the house and walk the land 

Wild pigs run and feed off the dying man 

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 in hide 

The deadly rain may soon come down, you 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 it thunder storms 

That's when giant heavy red and black clouds form 

It's raining blood, livers, and kidneys from the sky 

Prepare cause when you die, you're coming to the killing fields 



"What shall that be? What shall that be? When that fine moment 

comes. When the curtains are drawn, the windows are shut, the 

doors close, and you've written what you've written, you said 

it, that's it. What will you look to be? What about it, mister, 

when you've had your last beer. You laughed at family and 

laughed at your little wife. She begged you not to go out to 

that bar." 



As I feed off a dead pig, I'm thinking back 

To when I had a heart beat, and how I would act 

I would steal from the poor, I'd laugh at the sick 

But in the killing fields, you 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 

They try to dig them out your skull, and go for self 

Now in the summertime, it's like a whole another realm 

Water victims, fire, and oceans overwhelm 

To walk outside, the heat will surely cook your brains 

Try to run across the street your hair will burst in flames 

Victims in a panic run from the heated light 

Underneath the city, into the sewer pipes 

Into the fire storm 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 Billy Billy goat with a human's head 

He's steady screaming "Let me be! Let me be!" 

But while I chase him there's another demon chasing me 

All of time moves backwards, I'm growing old 

And 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, I'll see you in the Killing Fields 



"You've had your big time of lust and sin and filth. What is 

the end going to be when you realize that time is up? You've 

crossed the finish line going in the wrong direction. What 

shall it be? What about it, ya man? When you spent your life 

in a few years time? You're burned out shell at 25 years of 

age. What shall it be? What about it? 



You could go to hell (what shall it be?) 



Come, come on down, down (you're going to the killing fields)