There is nothing much to tell
The lunch today had a pungent smell
I ain't the type who complain
So I ate it all the same
Nausea building up inside
I staggered slowly home to hide
Demons gnawing my entrails
My face a whiter shade of pale
I don't feel so great
Must've been something I ate
It was daft, almost insane
And now I pay with pain
The poison has engulfed my brain
My prayers were in vain
Kneeling on the toilet floor
Bringing up a gallon or more
Between convulsions I could cry
Oh please, let me die
Writer(s): Fredrik Rundqvist, Jonas Avertoft, Fransson Magnus Algot
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