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Testo Lush Rimbaugh
Testo Lush Rimbaugh
God, send the meteor 'cause I've had enough of this
And I'd like to see some good ole fashioned wrathful testament
Why, why is it so hard to try, try to be open to
Eyes, eyes that are not yours
In shoes you’ve never walked in?
When I heard you were dying I have to admit
That I felt a bit of sympathy
But then you open your mouth and confirmed to me That you’re a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re suffering, you fuck
I’m not sorry, I’m not fucking sorry
I'm not sorry anymore
There’s a spеcial place in hell for you
Therе’s a special place in hell for you
I'm sure they’ve got your number at the door
When I was young I used to hate myself
Because bigots like you were given pedestals
You proselytize in the name of religion
But it’s all for show, you’re gonna be locked out of heaven
There is no repenting, there is no coming back
You’re going to hell with a mark on your back
Where you’ll fry like a saint but unlike Joan of Arc You’re not worth the piss to put out the spark
I’m not sorry, I’m not fucking sorry
I'm not sorry anymore
There’s a special place in hell for you
There’s a special place in hell for you
I'm sure they’ve got your number at the door
You spend your whole life trying to make others feel bad for things they can’t control
And now you’re dying, clinging on to all the things you tell yourself but you know in your soul
You will be forgotten
And you will be forgotten like the snow and the ice
While basking in a warm summer sun
I’m not sorry, I’m not fucking sorry
I'm not sorry anymore
There’s a special place in hell for you
There’s a special place in hell for you
I'm sure they’ve got your number at the door
And I'd like to see some good ole fashioned wrathful testament
Why, why is it so hard to try, try to be open to
Eyes, eyes that are not yours
In shoes you’ve never walked in?
When I heard you were dying I have to admit
That I felt a bit of sympathy
But then you open your mouth and confirmed to me That you’re a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re suffering, you fuck
I’m not sorry, I’m not fucking sorry
I'm not sorry anymore
There’s a spеcial place in hell for you
Therе’s a special place in hell for you
I'm sure they’ve got your number at the door
When I was young I used to hate myself
Because bigots like you were given pedestals
You proselytize in the name of religion
But it’s all for show, you’re gonna be locked out of heaven
There is no repenting, there is no coming back
You’re going to hell with a mark on your back
Where you’ll fry like a saint but unlike Joan of Arc You’re not worth the piss to put out the spark
I’m not sorry, I’m not fucking sorry
I'm not sorry anymore
There’s a special place in hell for you
There’s a special place in hell for you
I'm sure they’ve got your number at the door
You spend your whole life trying to make others feel bad for things they can’t control
And now you’re dying, clinging on to all the things you tell yourself but you know in your soul
You will be forgotten
And you will be forgotten like the snow and the ice
While basking in a warm summer sun
I’m not sorry, I’m not fucking sorry
I'm not sorry anymore
There’s a special place in hell for you
There’s a special place in hell for you
I'm sure they’ve got your number at the door
- Choke On This
- Rum Is For Drinking
- Irish Eyes
- Mi Amor
- Stephen
- Bite To Break Skin
- Death Bed
- First Breath, Last Breath
- Bloody Romance
- Fireworks At Dawn
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