Sick though it may seem
It has always been a dream
 Of mine to watch you drop
 Like one million freezing flies Psychopathic my mathematic
 Always sums to zero Population, your equation always equal hero Burn, burn So the fruits of your labours
 Have fermented into wine
 And the sweat that you dripped Is now the honey of the hive The city is a burning sun
 And I a blooming flower The fire, the flame
The pa**ion, the power Burn, burn And you, your kindling, innocent The fruits of your labours Have fermented into wine
 And the sweat that you dripped Is now the honey of the hive
 The city is a burning sun
 And I a blooming flower The fire, the flame
 The pa**ion, the power Burn, burn The fire, the flame
 The pa**ion, the power The fire, the flame
 The pa**ion, the power