I am a dead dream harlot,
Crushed under the colossal body of an American Dream, drenched in blood scarlet.
I am a soulless con artist,
Offering my spirit while already picked out at the harvest.
I am a tired pop singer,
Waiting for my grand finale, yet wishing my legacy would linger.
I am a taxi driver,
Being a chauffeur of dreams for others, yet never being myself a rider.
I am a lost lamb,
Trying to find the good, but only finding the damned.
I am a petulant child,
The more stupid a decision, the more wild.
I am the king of the world,
On the bloodshed of the poor I am curled.
I am a faking lunatic,
For fear of reality drives me hectic.

I am...
I am...
In love with all bones mine.
On the remains of the harlot, con artist, pop singer, taxi driver, lamb, child, king, and lunatic I dine,
I complete their circle; I am the terrible nine,
I am the sordid, the true and proud American Swine!