Some say you got a purdy mouth
but your mind just don’t match that ideal
Due to that inner ugly
your friends are fairweather
your enemies circling from a safe distance
waiting on that sweet smell of blood
signalling your defeat
How does it feel
the sensation of so many innocent skulls
crushed beneath your heedless heels?
How does it feel
knowing one day you’ll fall
from that lovely ladders of yours
into an anonymous grave?
Not a soul will be stirred to mourning
Some may even be grateful
but your mind just don’t match that ideal
Due to that inner ugly
your friends are fairweather
your enemies circling from a safe distance
waiting on that sweet smell of blood
signalling your defeat
How does it feel
the sensation of so many innocent skulls
crushed beneath your heedless heels?
How does it feel
knowing one day you’ll fall
from that lovely ladders of yours
into an anonymous grave?
Not a soul will be stirred to mourning
Some may even be grateful
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