My lover's got humor
She's the giggle in a funeral
At everybody's disapproval
Should've worshipped her sooner
If the heavens ever gets me
She's the last true mouthpiece
Every Sunday is getting (?)
Fresh poison each week
We were born sick
heard them saying
Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog
at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins
and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good god, let me give you my life

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS