tormen, he was a snake-oil salesman
took a lesion, a stake and
three f*cking greasy henchman
and if on one friendless night
he were to call you a brethren
i would run my brother
gun my brother till your sweat it is relentless
he was well versed
in witnesses and vintage carbines
he drove a long black hearse with a harlot
and a chaffeur
and he'd show me a good time
on a sunday night
but i'd have to clean up the mess
and i had to learn how to fight
well, i saw a lot that night
i saw a lot that night
and i fought for my life
with a glass-fashioned knife
when he speaks of blood
it's your vital not your kin
oh much is slit over misintention
let me speak to you of my intention
I'm a chat intervention
let me speak to you of attention
i take my attention
hammer it to a nickel
in the glass house
the gutter
the gutter
the gutter
the gutter
tormen
tormen
i said tormen
he was a cannibal
tormen and his brazen gang
and a torch in hand
and a vernacular of pain
with a carboy and
a half full demijohn
well he took me by the nape
(i had my blue leather on)
and i said
"no, i am that mercy mercenary!"