Ankle deep in trash Garbage in your veins Through the dark backward Slowly go insane On the stage again greasy matter hair Sallow faces grimace Blank and painful stares Back in the dump by day Corpse found in the grime A lick across the chest The taste is foul but fine Meanwhile fingers grow from your back Then into a hand that can grasp Then lastly emerges an arm A freak shows in this world bizarre Exploitation show Extra limb the who*e But when the dream is done Return to trash once more