I beat the dead; they don't fight back,
They have no need, they have no lack,
They bear the marks of my attack,
I beat the dead; they don't react.
Call me fiend, or call me foul,
Throw me to the dogs that bite and howl,
Before you point a finger or cry an empty tear, buy yourself a alibi, get yourself a mirror.
I rob the poor; they don't mind,
I take whatever I happen to find; it's never much at any one time,
I rob the poor; it's not a crime.
Call me fiend, or call me foul,
Throw me to the dogs that bite and howl,
Before you point a finger or cry an empty tear, better get yourself a alibi, buy yourself a mirror.
I beat the dead,
I beat the dead.
I k** the children before they're born, as their little feet begin to form,
Don't buy them shoes; they won't get worn,
I k** the children; I am not scorned.
Call me fiend, or call me foul,
Throw me to the dogs that bite and howl,
Before you point a finger or cry an empty tear, buy yourself a alibi, get yourself a mirror.
I beat the dead,
I beat the dead.