Crowds

What do you want of me

What do you long from me

A slim Pixie, thin and forlorn

A count, white and drawn

What do you make of me

What can you take from me

Pallid landscapes off my frown

Let me rip you up and down

For you I came to forsake

Lay wide despise and hate

I sing of you in my demented songs

For you and your stimulations

Take what you can of me

Rip what you can off me

And this I'll say to you

And hope that it gets through

You worthless bitch

You fickle shit

You would spit on me

You would make me spit

And when the Judas hour arrives

And like the Jesus Jews you epitomize

I'll still be here as strong as you

And I'll walk away in spite of you

And I'll walk away

Walk away