. . . . .
I wouldn't want to be me
I wouldn't wish it on anyone...
But, then again, who the hell
would ever wanna be you?
. . . . .
Tell me, how could I ever get off the floor
when there ain't no one to scrape me up?
Well, I need a buzz-
Why's that so hard to figure out?
Otherwise, I just need God to come on down
and burn it all to the ground. . .
But... mark my words you Godless heathenΒ κ
You can only hide from yourself
But, really for how long?
Because, they used to call me St. Peter
and I don't care whether or not that's even true...
Either way, I'm coming for you. . . . .