If I'm damned to the pit, Then it's an honour, ain't it? To be invited to coffee with the gods. You dug your claws into me, Now all this ceremony, I'd rather that you just give me firing squad.
So gentlemen, My infatuation with disrepair, And dilapidation, Will turn turn your heaven to a tomb.
A sense of severance, A past I had all but buried. The mist is clearing and my mind's, Like a cemetery.
A sense of severance, From all I had come to cherish. My conscience breaking into halves, And all hope has perished.
[Now, now, NOW!]
You speak of destiny claimed, That I'm a fool to be shamed, That those ascended are bound to dominate. The lives of those underneath, But they can help me to see, That though demonic I'll get fancy free.
So gentlemen, My infatuation with disrepair, And dilapidation, Will turn turn your heaven to a tomb, tomb.
A sense of severance, A past I had all but buried. The mist is clearing and my mind's, Like a cemetery.
A sense of severance, From all I had come to cherish. My conscience breaking into halves, And all hope has perished.
[Now, now, NOW!] [Now, NOW, NOOOW!]
And those once bound shall fracture, We'll turn your heaven to a tomb. And though the end might make me feel good, I'll pay for it in gloom.
[OH BABY!]
So gentlemen, My infatuation with disrepair, And dilapidation, Will turn turn your heaven to a tomb, tomb.
A sense of severance, A past I had all but buried. The mist is clearing and my mind's, Like a cemetery.
A sense of severance, From all I had come to cherish. My conscience breaking into halves, And all hope has perished.
A sense of severance, A past I had all but buried. The mist is clearing and my mind's, Like a cemetery.
The names of people dead and gone, A thousand memories that I lost.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
