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Spielplatz

de Vincent Gross

I've got a story that'll make you cry
About a young boy who killed time
It was a massacre, it got out of control
He started small with just a few minutes
And then he felt his hunger grow

He knew what he was doing
And he knew that it was wrong
But he just could not stop til every stinking day and week and month and year were gone

Somebody shout murder, somebody call the police
There's a madman on the loose
And he won't stop til all of times deceased
He commits his crimes alone
He sits up in his room
No second safe from slaughter, tomorrow knows his end is soon

He knows what he's doing, but by now he just don't care
'Cos he just will not stop til every stinking day and week and month and year ain't there

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