Union square at about 9 o'clock Friday night, boy was he rocked Just a dumb beer drinking jock Unaware as he staggered and mocked On the platform you see a push There's a slam and an eerie squish Hear the cracking of his back The bloody limbs grind the red tracks Insta-death your last breath Split-second prayers won't save The shit you've stepped in Insta-death your last breath It's all over now And this is your last wind Folks can't deal with a mad mad world Try and fly cute little girl People all freaked out on the ruckus Scrape - Scrape into a bucket All dreams are six feet in the floor Atop the clouds in front of Peter's door Finding your way out becomes a chore Looks like death is a hopeless bore Lie unexpected, lie unexpected Dear mother brings you flowers As you both rot away the hours The aftermath of time Thoughts decaying with your mind