Lyric Halls of Illusions
Ticket please, thanks, walk through the doors,
Into the Halls of Illusion and visit yours,
To see what could ve, and should ve, and would ve been real,
But you had to fuck up the whole deal.
Let s take a walk down the hallway,
It s a long way, it takes all day,
And when we get to the end, you ll find a chair,
With straps and chains, we slap you in there!
Lock you down tight, so you can t move a thread,
And, pull your eyelids up over your head!
Cuz you re about to witness an Illusionary dream,
It s just too bad it ain t what it seems.
You walk in and see two kids on the floor,
They re playin nintendo, and he s got the high score,
And sittin behind them, chillin in the chair,
Is your wife, and you look, oh, you ain t there!
It s some other man, and they re hand in hand,
She looks so happy, ya don t understand,
See, this is an illusion, and it never came true
All because of you!
Back to reality and what you re about,
Your wife can t smile, cuz you knocked her teeth out!
And she can t see straight from gettin hit,
Cuz you re a fat fuckin drunk piece of shit!
But it s all good, here, come have a beer,
I ll break the top off it, and shove it in your ear
And your death comes wicked, painful, and slow,
At the hands of Milenko!
(chorus:)
Great Milenko, wave your wand!
(Don t look now, your life is gone)
This is all because of you!
(What you got yourself into)
(end chorus)
(chorus)
Look who s next, it s Mr. Clark,
The dirty old man from the trailer park.
Ya got your ticket? thanks, take your coat off,
And later on, why not? I ll rip your throat off.
Let s take a walk down the hallway,
It s a long way, it takes all day,
And when ya get to the end, you ll find a chair,
Ya see all the blood? Yeah, ya boy was just here!
We get all different kind of people comin through,
Richies, chickens, and bitches just like you!
In the halls, everybody gets a turn,
To sit and witness your illusion before ya burn!
What do we have here? Oh dear
No way! It looks like ya kids in the O.K.
Ya daughter s chillin up in college, top grades,
And your son s a fuckin doctor, phat pay!
They got family, the kids, and it s all good!
They even coach little league in the neighborhood!
Is this true? Have ya really seen the holy ghost?
Naw, bitch! Not even close!
Back to reality, your son s on crack
And your daughter s got nut stains on her back
And they both fuckin smell like shit,
And live in the gutter,
And sell crack to each other.
When they were kids, you d beat em and leave em home!
And even whip em with the cord of the telephone!
And that reminds me man, hey you got a call!
Watch your step to hell, its a long fall.
(chorus)
(chorus)
It s time to pack up and move to the next town.
But we forgot Mr. Bigot,
Okay, dig it,
We can t show ya an illusion, cuz we re all packed, but
I ll still cut your neck out! How s that?
(chorus)
(chorus)
(chorus)
(chorus)
Into the Halls of Illusion and visit yours,
To see what could ve, and should ve, and would ve been real,
But you had to fuck up the whole deal.
Let s take a walk down the hallway,
It s a long way, it takes all day,
And when we get to the end, you ll find a chair,
With straps and chains, we slap you in there!
Lock you down tight, so you can t move a thread,
And, pull your eyelids up over your head!
Cuz you re about to witness an Illusionary dream,
It s just too bad it ain t what it seems.
You walk in and see two kids on the floor,
They re playin nintendo, and he s got the high score,
And sittin behind them, chillin in the chair,
Is your wife, and you look, oh, you ain t there!
It s some other man, and they re hand in hand,
She looks so happy, ya don t understand,
See, this is an illusion, and it never came true
All because of you!
Back to reality and what you re about,
Your wife can t smile, cuz you knocked her teeth out!
And she can t see straight from gettin hit,
Cuz you re a fat fuckin drunk piece of shit!
But it s all good, here, come have a beer,
I ll break the top off it, and shove it in your ear
And your death comes wicked, painful, and slow,
At the hands of Milenko!
(chorus:)
Great Milenko, wave your wand!
(Don t look now, your life is gone)
This is all because of you!
(What you got yourself into)
(end chorus)
(chorus)
Look who s next, it s Mr. Clark,
The dirty old man from the trailer park.
Ya got your ticket? thanks, take your coat off,
And later on, why not? I ll rip your throat off.
Let s take a walk down the hallway,
It s a long way, it takes all day,
And when ya get to the end, you ll find a chair,
Ya see all the blood? Yeah, ya boy was just here!
We get all different kind of people comin through,
Richies, chickens, and bitches just like you!
In the halls, everybody gets a turn,
To sit and witness your illusion before ya burn!
What do we have here? Oh dear
No way! It looks like ya kids in the O.K.
Ya daughter s chillin up in college, top grades,
And your son s a fuckin doctor, phat pay!
They got family, the kids, and it s all good!
They even coach little league in the neighborhood!
Is this true? Have ya really seen the holy ghost?
Naw, bitch! Not even close!
Back to reality, your son s on crack
And your daughter s got nut stains on her back
And they both fuckin smell like shit,
And live in the gutter,
And sell crack to each other.
When they were kids, you d beat em and leave em home!
And even whip em with the cord of the telephone!
And that reminds me man, hey you got a call!
Watch your step to hell, its a long fall.
(chorus)
(chorus)
It s time to pack up and move to the next town.
But we forgot Mr. Bigot,
Okay, dig it,
We can t show ya an illusion, cuz we re all packed, but
I ll still cut your neck out! How s that?
(chorus)
(chorus)
(chorus)
(chorus)
