A look in the mirror will not reveal the putrid form hidden beneath an inch of make-up. Expensive clothes to hide the cheap nature of the mind so low. Inside the decay grows.
Forked tongue, a breath so foul, empty promises as empty as your soul – you have no soul You don't see it, but with every lie the rotting flesh falls off your bones – still you stand bold
Behind it all – the money shot plan, the one goal that you know Find and marry a rich old man The bald dome shines like gold
Feline stalker, Feminine hunter Look for the unsuspecting prey
Wealthy widower, unhealthy oldtimer Sink your claws in the human game
Like sirens you sing your song You smile and flash your thong Viagra could be confused with rat poison, just make him consume it
Wed him, bed him Wait for him to die Collect the good wife's prize The good wife's prize
He's dead, you're left Now you feel alive But you've been dead all the time Dead all your life
You have dug your own tomb Ground has sunk upon you There's no one left to foolTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.