Grinding Process - Melvins

I think you trying to tear

But I stick with her spit

Keep thinking comic lines

Of those less fortunate

I must exterminate

The lucky haunted few

With my lottery.

My fingers need it back

It curls around her neck

She chokes her dying breath

And blows it in my face

Her sticky ploppy sticks

To my more waiting flesh

And blood runs from her mouth

For my last kiss to taste

For my last kiss to taste

I know that it’s wrong

But I’m waiting to see

How very long I can keep up the pace.