Your arm was connected to a grenade There is no more hand, only the grenade In blood And its started countdown! You will be killed By the mutational mechanism Made of your flesh. Your hand became the material Of which bomb is made of! And you are the material for the experiment! Run wherever you want, you have some seconds Blood trickles on the floor from The ugly mechanism The grenade was made of the hand Now you will be blasted out! See ya in Pittsburgh!