Oh my sweet Crematoria,who's heaving breasts remind me of, nthe fatal kiss of suicide,when perfumed with formaldehyde nthey tried to take you away from me,so I took away their lives nbut first I killed their relatives,their children and their wives, nthey thought your death wound end my love for you,but that nwas a grave mistake,my hands are still covered with their blood nas from the furnace I collect your remains, nthe roads belong to us my love,and those who dare to block our nway, nwill pay profusely with their blood,as I make it shower the ground nlike rain, nthe trunk of my old muscle car is now a shrine to you,a half charred ngodess well preserved by embalming fluid, nthe cops are on our trail now,as we hide in cheap motels na deputy pulls us over,so I shoot him in the face... n