Are you hungry? Are you sick?
Are you begging for a break?
Are you sweet? Are you fresh?
Are you strung up by the wrists?

We want the young blood

Are you fracturing?
Are you torn at the seams?
Would you do anything?
Flea-bitten, moth-eaten

We suck young blood
We suck young blood

Won't let the creeping ivy
Won't let the nervous bury me
Our veins are thin
Our rivers poisoned

We want the sweet meat
We want young blood