I like to slither around life and kiss it on its cheek.
They say that I really sound like a fag. But what they do not know is that I blasted Slayers Angel of Death in their sleep. Wanting to kill them for the sins that they about to commit.
They expect me to be mad, bad and hard on life, but I wont take that bait.
There is a monster living inside of me. And what makes me a hero,
is that I f ight it each and everyday.
To see your smile at the front door, greeting me. Even in death, that makes all the sweat smell sweet, like your smile on a beautiful Sunday morning.
You can call me a man dear, but I am just an ordinary lover, f ighting to see your smile in front of that beautiful pink door.
