Talking To God (On A Microphone Made Of Steel) (исполнитель: Mistress)
Black paint is peeling from the inside of a face Worn as a mask to cover the naked mind It's all lies and subterfuge, smoke and mirrors Life for sale, 1 owner, badly soiled and stained [bad word] it up the [bad word] I don't want it Take it back I'm done with it How [bad word] wrong can your whole [bad word] life be? You call it gift but I call it dirt You hear me, God? Go [bad word] yourself You might be God but it don't mean [bad word] to me The last remnants of a dream That's been bound and gagged then [bad word] died Lose your head and it can really blow your mind Locust plague haemorrhage, hands of blood and [bad word] I'll be [bad word] king in the latrine So place your bets, I'll take your bets No time for tears and no regrets Just hate yourself for what you don't have the balls to be When it's all unravelling So dionysian, ecstatic Talking to God with a microphone made of steel No regrets, no regrets Naked and bleeding but no regrets Live now only for the day when you can sleep forever No more giving your love away like so much cheap wine The air screams, no tears The air bleeds, no tears And [bad word] back Part of the deal, you knew the possibilities Aware, of sound mind and [bad word] You wanted all this porcelain You always knew it could be cracked And now it's finally smashed It's finally broken beyond repair Spilt [bad word] red one tick to [bad word] please Haha!