Botched b*** Job Lyrics

Botched b*** Job

She opens her eyes to a freak show: She's covered in t***,
(From) Head to her Hips-

Bloat, disfigured, a mug like a troll-

A zit on humanities unwashed a******-

Client after client-

s*** after s***-

They wanted to be noticed, without sucking in their gut-

A simple surgeon from the city prepares to mutilate some t***y-

An epidermal artist, crazed from correcting female fallacies-

The butcher of b***ies,
The h***** of Hollywood-

By playing god at the office, he's turning profits with his scalpel-

Making models into Mutants- Sewing b****** at the stitches-

Simple surgical procedures made by altering their features,

They are gassed to sleep as models, but instead they wake as creatures-

Skin-deep beauty of Hollywood-

Tattooed freaks on silicon streets-
Rich men roam alleyways with cocaine hard-ons

For diseased Junky w****s

Sin Thrives-

s** Sells-

Money Talks-

Evil Walks-

She screams with no sound cause her throat is a breast,

"Relax," says the surgeon, "You'll fit with rest."

He points to his walls-
She sees the f****** surgeon is a taxidermist-