He comes to menThe man with no facenA hero in a mask of raw fleshnHe is a simple geniusnFlower blood cellsnThe hero inside my brainnnOh the burning sandsnThe greasy ropenElectric hands, my broken hope, my mind machinenI feel my stomach churns...nBathsheba burnsnThe blood red rain will stain your namenBehold the lord of painnnHe speaks, I cannot hearnBut I understandnHe plugs me into his socketnI slip into his brainnFlower blood cellsnThe hero inside my brain nnYours is the marknOne hopeless dreamnAnd comes your guiltnThis sordid streamnMy mind machinenI feel my stomach churnsnBathsheba burnsnThe blood red rainnWill stain your namenBehold the lord of pain nnHe comes to menThe man with no facenA hero in a mask of raw fleshnHe is a simple geniusnFlower blood cellsnThe hero inside my brainnnOh the burning sandsnThe greasy ropenElectric hands, my broken hope, my mind machinenI feel my stomach churns...nBathsheba burnsnThe blood red rain will stain your namenBehold the lord of pain