I was born with a birthmark of cinders Debris cast from the stars and Mother A ring of bright slaughter, I spat in the waters Of life that ran slick from the stabwounds in Her Dub Me Lord Abortion, the living dead The bonesaw on the backseat On this bitter night of giving head A sharp rear entry, an exit in red Lump in the throat, on my come choke The killing joke worn thin with breath!