Here I Go Again
Body Count Lyrics

Another night I sit alone in the dark
The artist is alone in the dark, and feeling lonely and detached from the world.

I can't remember my name, I stalk streets and parks
The artist is experiencing memory loss and disorientation, leading him to wander through parks and streets.

Shame on the victims whose lifes intersect with mine
The artist expresses disdain and a sense of superiority towards the people he encounters.

Massive contusions, rivers of crimson wine
The artist describes the violence he inflicts on others, using vivid and disturbing language.

Dismemberments is all that I'm remembering
The artist admits that violence and murder are the only things that stick in his mind.

Bloodstains, pieces of brains under my fingernails
The artist describes the physical evidence that he has committed gruesome acts of violence.

Screams, kicks, fights, bruises, and yells
The artist recounts the violent acts he has committed and the physical response of his victims.

Nobody lives so nobody tells
The artist believes that he can get away with his violent crimes because his victims are dead and will never be able to report him.

I wake up in my house all alone
The artist wakes up in his home, still isolated and detached from others.

Bloody sheets, mud on my feet
The artist is surrounded by evidence of his violent crimes, which he seems to have little remorse for.

Next to me, utensils of death, I can't front son
The artist admits that he has weapons that are intended for violent purposes.

Knives, razor blades, axes, and guns
The artist lists the weapons he has at his disposal for his violent crimes.

Look in my chest, I got this ill ass cut
The artist has been injured during one of his violent attacks.

I get the needle and thread and sew it up
The artist takes care of his own injuries, without seeking help from anyone else.

Raise the shades and it's night again
The artist seems to be fixated on the darkness and violence that occurs at night.

Two ladies out late walking their dogs
The artist describes his next victims, who he encounters while they are out walking their dogs.

They're old, the city is damned from the fault
The artist expresses disdain for the city and its inhabitants.

I approach from the back with the speed of a shark
The artist is predatory and aggressive towards his victims.

Cloaked by dark, I rip their backs apart
The artist inflicts brutal violence on his victims, while they are unsuspecting and unable to defend themselves.

The violence is incredibly sexual to me
The artist seems to get pleasure from the violence and violence towards others.

I'm a blood fiend, makes me bust nuts in my jeans
The artist is sexually aroused by the violence he inflicts on others.

Yeah, I think I want to keep their heads
The artist reveals that he has an obsession with collecting body parts from his victims.

I love to peel off their faces and wear their dead skin to bed
The artist's obsession with body parts is taken to a disturbing new level, as he describes sleeping with the dead skin of his victims.

The dogs bark and bite at my feet
The artist comes into contact with the dogs that are with his victims, which adds an additional layer of chaos and terror to the situation.

As I leave they drag their headless bodies down the street
The artist leaves his victims' bodies behind, and the dogs are left to drag them away.

Make it stop
The artist is experiencing a mental breakdown and is asking for the voices in his head to stop.

My mind echoes with voices of terror
The artist's thoughts are consumed by terror and violence.

My next victim is in the mirror
The artist has fixated on himself as his next victim.

Seems like I've seen him before, I can't quite recollect
The artist is experiencing confusion and memory loss, which only further destabilizes his mental state.

All I know is that the voices say "Slice his neck"
The artist is following the instructions of voices in his head that are driving him towards violence and murder.

I cut off his hand, the blood sprayed from his wrist
The artist has committed a violent act against himself.

And burst, it felt warm when it quenched my thirst
The artist describes taking pleasure in the bloodshed caused by his own violent act.

I stabbed him in the eye with my knife made of surgical steel
The artist has inflicted a violent act on himself.

Electrical shocks ripped my brain
The artist is experiencing intense physical pain.

Pain like I never felt before, sweet pain
The artist seems to take pleasure in the pain he is experiencing.

I love it, I love it and I want more
The artist is addicted to the feeling of pain and violence.

Pulled out my straight razor blade in his juggular
The artist is committing another violent act against himself.

I'm looking at the ceiling now
The artist is experiencing a dissociative episode.

I wonder where he went and how
The artist has become disconnected from reality.

He couldn't escape, not in that state
The artist has become lost and consumed by violence and mental instability.

I transcended through the gates of hell and met my soul mate
The artist has completely lost touch with reality.

South of heaven and the devil is my final vouch
The artist has become obsessed with darkness and violence, and is now seeking final acceptance from the devil.

You'll hear the shouts
The artist is warning the world that his violent acts are not finished, and more will follow.