Murderers Are Getting Prettier Every Day

Do you always have to hire actors to play

The devils that talk me out of my suicides?

You're just a ringtone,

That happens when you get sick

Enough to call the one with bullet holes

Bullet holes for eyes

Fall on your, knees

I hear the horrid voices of someone else's angels

Fall on your, knees

I hear the horrid voices of someone else's angels

Broken open the box when I spoke the spell

And I became an entrance wound to your bedroom grave

And I was paid with the shadow of consensual rape

Your ransom note is quoted by your death and birth certificates

And all of your love,

And all of your love letters read just like my will

Fall on your, knees

I hear the horrid voices of someone else's angels

Fall on your, knees

I hear the horrid voices of someone else's angels

I don't have to see to know that

Murderers are getting prettier every day

I don't have to see to know that

Murderers are getting prettier every day

I don't have to see to know that

Murderers are getting prettier every day