Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da
How you doin’?
How you doin’?
Welcome to my home
Do you like it?
‘Cause you’re my guest here
And it’s time to atone
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da
Oh, you look like an angel
Look like a saint
Oh, you look like a little Annabelle
But behind my mask
Is a cynical face
And I know that you know that well
Ah, set me on fire in a crowded room
What a shame, what a shame, what a shame
And I burn so bright
And I burn so pretty
Take a picture, I’ll sign my name
Well you ain’t Dick Cheney
But you still kinda suck
You got a certain kind of je ne sais quoi
But it ain’t your fault
No it’s never your fault
You should’ve stayed up in your dеad daddy’s balls
The prophets come
And thе prophets go
Shut them out if they don’t speak the truth
Oh, someone in this room
Got a message from God
But boy, I don’t think it’s you
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Da-da-da