AS (20 Nov.1950 / Yerevan, Armenia)


To go through the horrors again you need a prod
Trapped in the creepy purgatory, you can't come home
Surrounded by familiar demons, you taste blood
They let out a belly laff, ''Who's this marble dome? ''
You wonder, ''Am I gonna be fried and eaten up? ''
The fiends nod and proceed, ''First off, you hafta die''
While getting scared shitless, you're blowing your top
And shout to them, ''I don't mean to kiss my life goodbye''
The scorching heat emanates from the demons' big traps
You shut your eyes just before your body bursts into flames
After waking up, you wish you kept your nightmare under wraps
Unaware that you're on Old Nick's drop-dead list; he's taking names

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