Oh Brutus
You don't know what you do to me!
Yeah Judas
You don't know what you do to me!

(A little touch of some self-inflicted burns, never fails to make a few tempests turn)

I trust your senses like I trust myself - not very much
Although you'd argue that we never were friends as such
I'd hate to break it to you, but you're a fat-headed pig
And even if I break through, you're still an animal

Come on Judas, twitch like a man
Can't expect a group of kids to understand
There's a car on fire with a woman inside
You swallow the petrol like you swallowed your pride

My little Brutus, don't you know when to stop?
It's bad taste to go to funerals just to mock
I'm underrated
Or just obscene?
A little dated
Where have we been?

(Count down, just for fun)

Ten men dreaming of atrocities
Nine girls out on the game
Eight guns pointing at an old woman's head
Seven lives ending just the same
Six times suicide
Five times failed
Four children dying inside
Three passers-by go pale
Two is
One too many
For my liking...

Do you wonder at the fact that I'm torn in two?