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Artist: Swans
Albums: Swans Are Dead (1998)

I heard my father father
I heard the bloody find
I heard her film her father
I heard your mother fine

For the pleasure's a steady aim
Where file her can blow her
Come at her with bloody ire
And fall her with blood

And here it's cold
And throw her from death
And cremate her with bloody ire
On this world it's closer

From talking to blow up girls
Talking to blow up girls
Talking to blow up child
Talking yeah to just do up girls
'Cause their world
Their world

Sorry it sounds so incoherent, I can't make them out better than this.