Excessive cleansing Washing away the blood From your shaking hands Coughing up filth It's like nothing is clean when Your mind still is dirty The swarm is near Panic's rising by a buzzing sound Pushes you into states of regression A black swarm piercing through your skin Flying high with flies Sick, turning sicker It creeps on you But that's nothing new Finally realizing What we've always known That you're the bug The swarm is here Panic's rising by a buzzing sound Pushes you into states of regression A black swarm piercing through your skin Flying high with flies Flying high with flies Sick, turning sicker Turning sick, fucking sick