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You'll twist and turn your spite |
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Till you drain the sane |
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Cover up your track's with lie's |
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Deceit hide's a smile |
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So tired of this false pretence |
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Can't even look me in the eye |
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Approached by truth, you take offence |
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Praise the hypocrite! |
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I'll dance on your grave until my feet bleed |
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Six feet unders, where you'll rot |
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No remorse, your ill fate kept you running |
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What lie's behind close door's |
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Your slave's dance, you stamp your feet |
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Secrecy will land you on your face |
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No game, no gain |
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Your sheer presence make's my skin crawl |
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But your stale memory drag's on |
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What goes around, comes around |
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I'll dance on your grave until my feet bleed |
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Six feet unders where you'll rot |
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No remorse, your ill fate kept you running |
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We'll spit on your grave until your soul scream's |
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Six feet unders not deep enough |
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No sleep lost, good thing's come to those who wait |
