Bloody Regrets Songtext
von Boondox

As the young man I find out that if you hurt somebody
Will lead you all, good guys do finish last

Am I crazy? Am I insane?

Hoodoo is my religion I believe in superstition
Come against me and I turn instantly to mortician
You need some more coninving? Killer like the son of sam
Gruesome with my old depiction twist you like I′m outer realm
Homicidle idle survival of the wickedest
Got my rival suicidal from how I kick this shit
Watch me flick the bic I'm about to light the gas
Then I′mma cut your hand off and use that bitch to wipe my ass
I'm vicious, my heart has no malice
Anti malicious and my trigger finger is so careless
From killin' bastards now all I do is swing the hatchet
All hail to prime minister definition of sinister
Detrimental to industry, breaking bad with my chemistry
Trying go out and info me, fuck with me, feel my energy
Wicked poetic symphony this is how killers meant to be
Boondox and Big Hoodoo no remorse and no symphaty


No symphaty, no remorse, cold blooded
Sick with it, this how we do
No soul, my hearts cold (everybody knows we)
Sick with it, this how we do
Am I crazy? Sick with it, this how we do
Am I insane? Sick with it, this how we do

The pain is constant and sharp
And this confession? It means nothing
The ring around sinking, coming clean like it used to
Permament reminder that I got couple screws loose
Same with the bathub, same stained hands
Drops on the counter top of insane man
Thoughts of the flashback, remembering the first time
That I realized I was evil of the worst kind
Covered toe to head in somebody else′s life
And laughing when I lost it, lickin plasma from a knife
Staring at the wind, chippin′ down from a slow drip
Lips on the water fountain, startin' with a slow sip
And end it with the crazy mixed pleasure with your shame
A little bit of pain from the liquid that I drain
Why did I do it? Was it worth the affliction
And why did I let to it to become my addiction
The body in my conscious bearing out in the mud
A blood thristy killer with a real thrist for blood


No symphaty, no remorse, cold blooded
Sick with it, this how we do
No soul, my hearts cold (everybody knows we)
Sick with it, this how we do
Am I crazy? Sick with it, this how we do
Am I insane? Sick with it, this how we do

There is no me, only an entity
Something illusory

No symphaty, no remorse, cold blooded
Sick with it, this how we do
No soul, my hearts cold (everybody knows we)
Sick with it, this how we do
Am I crazy? Sick with it, this how we do
Am I insane? Sick with it, this how we do
No symphaty, no remorse, cold blooded
Sick with it, this how we do
No soul, my hearts cold (everybody knows we)
Sick with it, this how we do
Am I crazy? Sick with it, this how we do
Am I insane? Sick with it, this how we do