Back home to the Gallows
Where my maidens lay sleeping
I feel so unhallowed
In the bed of my sins

Through the maelstrom of pride
My self-centered paradise
Where I am the Hero
With a garden to die for

Stacked like stones
With eyes to the sky
Echoing moans
And wondering why

All have been sampled
Abandoned afar
Crippled and trampled
Like the flowers they are.

“I would do anything just to meet Morte McAdaver. I mean, he’s such a sexy rock star, you know? He seems like such a lonely guy…I’ve heard that he’s had a lot of girls; I bet he’s just never found the right one! He needs someone to be there for him...I wonder if I’m the girl for him…I mean, he can’t be that bad, right?”

What’s the matter, young lady?
This your first night out?
This ain’t a horror movie mayday
And I know what you’re about.
It’s just the fate of every date
That stumbles through my weeds
To seethe and hate and masturbate
And wish you could be free.

I will see you hung up
Strung up
Bound and asphyxiated
Strangled by your heartstrings
But am I not the protagonist you’ve seen in your dreams?
I’ve been waiting just to hear you scream…

”I’m not like all the other girls. I’m into that dark stuff that he likes. I wonder how he is in bed! His music is so sad and gloomy, and he always seems so cold and hateful when he sings; I bet there’s a really nice guy hiding underneath the surface! Maybe he’ll find time for me, and we could become friends…or maybe something more. I hope I’m pretty enough…”

The night you left alone
You found a monster like me
Too striking to condone
But too alluring to flee
It’s just your hips, your eyes, your tits
Are running through my woods
It's something that I never understood
And don’t you wish that you could kiss
And fall into another bleeding heart’s abyss?
Without regret, regard or further ado
It’s off to the Gallows with you!
And don’t you wish that you could stay
Just hang around, languid in windswept sway
Without your pride and all that you held true
It’s off to the Gallows with you!