We’re defective, we’re elective, we are the good boys and girls gone bad
So restrain me and cure me now with *buzz* *buzz* electroshocks
Cane me and lock me up within the corners of grimy limestone walls
Torture me to your own whims Sister; why not? It’s a madhouse after all
Boiling baths to condense your soul of all its black smoking madness
Solitary confinement to expel the numerous demons you possess
Colourful characters to see, like greedy priests and a Santa Claus defaced
Mexicans and devilish nuns, and here comes ‘ol infamous Bloody Face
Scarlet Rorschach tests that the psychiatrist provides are spattering
Patterned rusty blood and brown faeces on the floor are freely dripping
What do you see? A knife? A heart? A person? Or a shiny gun?
Worry not, my dearest patient, you and I are going to have so much fun
Screams and chants and yells and thudding heads in a morbid symphony
A terrible storm is brewing, so let’s just go and watch a old Christian movie
Demons, monsters, angel of death, Nazis, aliens, all this sheer nonsense
So go ahead and take a pick from this varied roster of utter madness
Now it’s time to take a side; are you a victim? Or the victor?
Do you want bitter pills to cure your ails, or retribute with a glinting razor?
Decide your fate, come what may, but in the end, surely you’ll still fall
Oh what the hell everyone, shut up and deal, it’s a madhouse after all.