On a night like this, don't meet me at the switch.
I'll cut you up in shreds; you'll be in need of some stitches.
Riches, riches, me, I don't get this.
I rip kids in pieces and turn them into feces.
I swat 'em to the ground
and howl an awful bloodcurdling sound.
My eviscerations take place without hesitation.
Your only safety is far from locations that I'm dominating.
I waste zero seconds; my teeth are break-necking
as blood pools 'round the feet of victims that I'm catching.
I know that this is true only through my memories.
When I wake up the next morning I know that instinct took control of me.
Deep within, a monster awakens
by the light of a glorious full moon arising.
Since light has this effect on me,
am I ever complete?
Doomed to lose control whenever I reach my corporal peak?

And when the sunlight arrives in the sky,
I feel more alive. Then I sigh
to the sight of dried blood 'round my eyes.
I cried all night, to the point of dehydration.
The sadness eventually became my source of elation.
In all creation, is there a more terrible abomination?
Looking into the lake, who am I facing?

Awaken with bloodstains on my shirt and blue jeans.
My nightmares are my dreams, frightened by all means.
But I can't help but satisfy my need for shrieking screams.
I am not little, and still I'm not a human being.
But I face my worst fear, the night sky air,
because I know by the time I see her it would be too late to care,
where wolves begin to wonder and where wolves could even bear,
grizzly sights among the people who look at me but couldn't stare.
I'm faster than average, savage.
I am not a murderer; I'm just a killing addict.
Added every person killed, but bad at mathematics.
Acquiring a problem, but I tell myself I've had it.
Trust my instincts; never leave a trail to follow
to remains of the bodies that I didn't need to swallow.
Heart stays colder than the winter of Colorado.
Daytime, I'm kind. Nighttime, I'm hostile.

And when the sunlight arrives in the sky,
I feel more alive. Then I sigh
to the sight of dried blood 'round my eyes.
I cried all night, to the point of dehydration.
The sadness eventually became my source of elation.
In all creation, is there a more terrible abomination?
Looking into the lake, who am I facing?

Every night it's the same scary story
Boy meets moon; boy becomes very gory.
O, bloody bodies battered brutally by me,
please excuse me for not being fictitious.
Mm, you're so delicious; I splatter you with kisses.
It doesn't matter if you're a mister or a missus.
My precision is perfected; you will never see me missing.
In fact, I attack faster than comprehension.
And leave my prey's bodies lacking composition.
I'm bashing competition, effortlessly with a glare
because I'm not the only creature lurking here.
But the am the only one who's mastery of their craft
is laughably unsurpassed.
I'm clashing so hard that it's disastrous.
My descent into dissonance is unabashed.
But my grasp of the situation is what I'm hating.
Why must my powers be so latent that I can't even maintain it?

And when the sunlight arrives in the sky,
I feel more alive. Then I sigh
to the sight of dried blood 'round my eyes.
I cried all night, to the point of dehydration.
The sadness eventually became my source of elation.
In all creation, is there a more terrible abomination?
Looking into the lake, who am I facing?