Don't listen to me; I think it's a game,

This isn't possible for one who's sane,

I tricked her with prompts and demands,

But he doesn't know I came for her hands

So go and call the cops,

You'll talk until your life stops, 

Her times not up; I like it when she screams,

But you'll only survive in your damned crazy dreams,

I know she had some strange stories to plant,

But I'd be willing to bet that you just can't

Don't listen to me; I think it's a game,

This isn't possible for one who's sane,

I tricked her with prompts and demands,

But he doesn't know I came for her hands

He sees her hands on the floor,

I can tell he doesn't want to see more,

But I can't stand for a continuation of his life,

So I slit his throat with the blade of my knife

Don't listen to me; I think it's a game,

This isn't possible for one who's sane,

I tricked her with prompts and demands,

But he didn't know I came for her hands

Her hands are as hard as old, stale bread,

And her body is being removed from under the bed,

I wish I could take it back,

Why'd I tell her that fact?

She denied my reality

And negated the clarity,

My life can go on; in that queer spot,

But her life will end with the sound of a shot

Don't listen to me; I think it's a game,

This isn't possible for one who's sane,

I tricked her with prompts and demands,

But he doesn't know I came for her life