Red - Combichrist

Nothing ever happens in this dirty hick town

The bar is always closed and now the hookers all are gone

Now church is entertainment and prozac is the drug

Going out of my mind, start to changing things around

I’ve got gallons of blood

Can’t remember where it’s from

Just clippings on the wall

I guess it’s stuff that I’ve done

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

How ironic, I’m bored and all erotic

Just sitting around all day, just plotting how to die

Wasting time, cracking fingers, my blood gets thinner by the minute

Sometimes I feel that I am dead

Distant memories haunt me

(Distant memories haunt me)

It truly seems like a dream

(It truly seems like a dream)

Like a dead man’s song

(Like a dead man’s song)

A machine with no conscience

(A machine with no conscience)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

«It really seems like a dream»

Like a dead man’s song

I’m just the machine with no conscience

Like a dead man’s song

Living in a dirty hick town

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red… red… red…)

I’ve got to paint this town red (red…)