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I curse to hell the magistrate who granted this unholy fate |
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But I know, |
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I know I asked for this myself |
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I'm bound by law to hell |
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And its Sick! |
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Sick! Sick! |
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Humans have their needs, living in a fairy tale is tearing at the seem |
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Yeah, it's anchorage, no its the devil in a dress, is exactly what you see |
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Sick! Sick! |
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Sick!It's |
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Sick! Sick! |
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Sick!You made a mess of things |
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My what a mess you've made |
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I hate the way you make me feel |
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I hate the way you make me |
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And your world is cold outside |
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So button up and open wide |
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I hate the way you make me feel |
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Sick! Sick! |
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Sick!If memory serves me correct |
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I gave you all, you gave me less |
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You're sex capades deliver checks, but cant afford you self respect |
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And it's Sick! |
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Sick! Sick! |
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Humans on their knees, living in a fairy tale is tearing at the seems |
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Yeah, its anchorage, no its the devil in a dress, exactly what you see |
|
Sick! Sick! |
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Sick!You made a mess of things |
|
My what a mess you've made |
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I hate the way you me feel |
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I hate the way you make me |
|
Your world is cold outside |
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So button up and open wide |
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I hate the way you make me feel |
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Sick! Sick! |
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Sick!Maybe love is looking for someone to fill the holes |
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We grow up building lives with holes in all our walls |
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The walls could fall but here you were with spare bricks to save the day |
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And we pray its not to late spare bricks could be dead weight |
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Sick! Sick! |
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Sick!It's |
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Sick! Sick! |
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Sick!Sick! |
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Sick! Sick! |
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You're Sick! |
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Sick! Sick! |
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You made a mess of things |
|
My what a mess you've made |
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I hate the way you make me feel |
|
I hate the way you make me |
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And you're world is cold outside |
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So button up and open wide |
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I hate the way you make me feel |
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Sick! Sick! |
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Sick! |
