Forty Fathoms - The Anti-virus

Yuh
Stop the presses! something has crawled out of this hole
Our new life begins on a not so familiar note
quit running around like you own this town
Before too long your face will hit the ground

Beg for mercy! only our ears can hear you
Beg for mercy! but its already too late

İts makes no difference to me, he''ll never hear your god damn plea

The thoughts of you have been few and far between But this time around there is no cure for our disease

The times have shown they are so easily blinded
So take this for what its worth
You can think of me, when your lungs start to bleed
The image of you, tossing and turning in your sleep
Tossing in your sleep

[chorus]

Beg beg youll be begging for it