LYRIC

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Hey Mr. Psychiatrist, lately I’ve been really pissed and can’t seem to make my mind think straight.
Every day I make my list of things to do with my clenched fist, I just don’t know why some think it’s scary.

Monday stalk the girl next door.
Tuesday bury her under the floor.
Wednesday, Thursday torture a politician.
Friday the morgue I will explore.
Saturday always is a bore,
And Sunday I’ll find me another murder victim.

I’m not sure how this came about, childhood affection attention in doubt, perhaps it was my fascination with weapons.
I never played Dungeons & Dragons, just with headless dolls and wagons, and the occasional match with gasoline engines.

Monday stalk the girl next door.
Tuesday bury her under the floor.
Wednesday, Thursday torture a politician.
Friday the morgue I will explore.
Saturday always is a bore,
And Sunday I’ll find me another murder victim.

Now you know I must confess, that I have made quite the mess, but covered up my crimes with great precision.
Now that I’ve got this off my chest, and if you tell I’ll lose my patience, and somewhere on your body I’ll have to make an incision.

Monday stalk the girl next door.
Tuesday bury her under the floor.
Wednesday, Thursday torture a politician.
Friday the morgue I will explore.
Saturday always is a bore,
And Sunday I’ll find me another murder victim.

Monday stalk the girl next door.
Tuesday bury her under the floor.
Wednesday, Thursday torture a politician.
Friday the morgue I will explore.
Saturday always is a bore,
And Sunday I’ll find me another murder victim.

© 2020 Minoan Music

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