paroles de chanson




Bio- death, fatal disease
Total loss of your reality
A fucking joke, the final slice
A loser that's out of your life
You're baffled up to the core, I'll say
You're a disease under the surface, you're a plague
You're a pile of dead flesh to me because you're a pile of trash
And even if you were given a gift, you'd be trapped in your own life
When you wake up in hell
Ask yourself
Was your image worth it?
Are you proud of yourself?
You had a chance to receive
To be a believer
You turned your back on God
To be a crown pleaser
You are a pile of wedges
A hole to the body
A noose to the throat
Can't you see what you've done?
You've got me in an itch
You've got to give me image
I'm an image of shit
Can't you see what I'm saying to you?
You're a disease under the surface, you're a plague
You're a pile of dead flesh to me because you're a pile of trash
And even if you were given a gift, you'd be trapped in your own life
When you wake up in hell
Ask yourself
Was your image worth it?
Are you proud of yourself?
You had a chance to receive
To be a believer
You turned your back on God
To be a crown pleaser
No one's proud of you now



Writer(s): Mark Johnson, Mark Salomon, Greg Minier, Jim Chaffin



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