Bring all your hoes to the garden of swedennWhere there's an orchid for every love me, love me not that you've gotnOh my god!nThese seraphims are fabricatorsnThey dip their shot glasses in the fountain of youthnLike its a goddamn watering holenSo toss back your books and your fucking cardboard and your blood or winenFor christ sakenAs we singnOh my fucking god!nnWe have become a part of younWe are inside of younWe're dancing in your earsnSo consider yourself brainwashednCause you've got demons singing you to sleepnnFor those of us who's choir serenades the agnostics and the scientistnnI have no heart!nI cannot love!nnI'll feed you whiskey and I'll feed you bloodnI'll feed you whiskey and I'll feed you bloodnI'll feed you whiskey and I'll feed you bloodnOh lord have pity on menOh lord have pity on menOh lord have pity on menOh please fiction have pity on mennMy brain is functioning with a new form of lovennnLove! Love! Love! Love!......nnnBring all your hoes to the garden of sweden nWhere the angels can tangle all your love up in knotsnOh my god!nThese seraphims are all foolsnThey kiss the frogs to find out that they turn into locusts