Hot Beer

Hot night cruising town, seeking for relief
A cold glass of beer, seems all that I need
A stop at a filthy bar, and asked for a sip
The liquid flows down my throat, blocking all my speech

Blood boils, anger speaks
Murder instincts screams at me
But I turn around and leave

In my head heading home, I shot you at both knees
A shiny knife, deep inside, dig you piece by piece
I smash your skull in the concrete, and leave you there to bleed
Your liquid flows down my hands, painting the crime scene

Blood boils, anger speaks
Murder instincts screams at me
But I turn around and leave