"Real Child Of Hell" textů

Men of flesh hitch a ride shorts and tans and greasy
thighs at night drive into slimy bars and piss it out
on our front yards they're looking in our window now
real child of hell nobody's seen him real child of
hell nobody knows what shape she takes st paddy's day,
old irish man shamrocks painted on his face mumbles
warnings from ireland in the back i sense a fight and
that old man has done his deed real child of hell nobody's
seen him real child of hell nobody knows what shape
he takes this stage i'm on gets repossesed by vigilantes
acting bored the mindless fan wants my dress and i
can't tell which one is worse and i can't see the cursing
child real child of hell nobody's seen him real child
of hell nobody knows what shape she takes