Pussyfoot Miss Suicide Children of Bodom

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Hey there, I think I know you
What was it you're contending to do?
That's right, you manipulate everyone
Around you, you deem you're overdue

Try to slit your wrists with a dry, blunt block of wood
Upgrade to a grater and still won't do no good
C'mon Miss Suicide, let me hand my blade to you
And since we're here you might as well cut me too

Like an acid flashback, it all came back to me
Slipped to drop a hit of you, one second later
I puke, I OD'd
Oh yes, indeed

Try to slit your wrists with a dry, blunt block of wood
Upgrade to a grater and still won't do no good
C'mon Miss Suicide, let me hand my blade to you
And since we're here you might as well cut me too

Miss Suicide, let me get the door for you
Let me love you black and blue
It's the least that I could do

Miss Suicide, show me the way to go
To the floor way down below
It's just a trifle hunch, that I'll beat you to the punch