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 Walk away