Do you get off on torture
On making your friends feel low
Finding someone who’s down for the count
Then landing the fatal blow

Do you eat nails for breakfast
To spit them out as you need
Piercing the souls of people you know
And standing there as they bleed

You love the sound of breaking glass
To you it’s like a bell
That tolls each time you cross that line
So cold, your living hell

Do you pray for misfortune
To be visited on the weak
Hoping that those who’re laid low by life
Are rendered too sad to speak

Do you destroy the goodness
In everything that you see
Secretly spying and blatantly lying
The fruit of a poisoned tree

Do you know that we’re waiting
And patiently marking time
Planning revenge we’ll get in the end
The world turns upon a dime