Lydia Lunch Follow

My windows are on the street
and there's knives in my drain
I've broken the cardboard
forced fists in my brain
I blacken the walls as I suffer my youth
I've got the cancer of birth
and I ask what's the use
there's knives in my drain
and there's shafts in my brain

curling the hairs and every man's mad
broken fingers of passion and every girl's sad

I'm split and unbled and I'm ripped to the sore
every man's madness and I'm hurdling ripped to the core
there's knives in my drain
empty splints in my brain

I've carved knives in my hair, it's every man's dream
I've broken the passion and every girl bleeds
I'm blackened and bleeding, I'm ripped to my youth
every man's madness, and I ask, what's the use?