[verse] This infection on my skin Pulsating Radiating pain Boiling with bacteria I cringe at mere touches I must rid myself of this aberration Disfiguring my dermis [verse] I choose the instruments The spears and blades This festering entity must be erased Unsightly vision Ghastly mass I will run it through, excise, demise This torture will end [chorus] Punctured! Gored! This wretched tumor is no more It’s life seeps out, a thick river of pus and blood I pull the guilty from its root With tight steel vices [bridge] Infected! Ingrown! HAIR! [end song]