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I don't care what the young men say
I'll carry on regardless
Thoughts of the past will bury me
The future is nothing but a memory

Poison-tongued harlots, they play
Play their whimsical games
And those sore old bastards keep
Up with their slack-jawed habits, yeah

Your zealous delusions
Make me laugh
Ad nauseum

I got burn on my lips and I got bane in my blood
My rapture is a reverie
And I don't care what the fuck you say
You're no god, no you're not, you're not

Your zealous delusions
Make me laugh
Ad nauseum

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