Lush Rimbaugh

God send the meteor 'cause I've had enough of this
And I'd like to see some good ol' fashioned wrathful testament
Why, why is it so hard to try, try
To be open to eyes, eyes that are not yours
In shoes you've never walked in?

When I heard you were dying, I have to admit
That I felt a bit of sympathy
But then you open your mouth and confirmed to me
That you're a piece of shit and I'm glad you're suffering, you fuck

I'm not sorry, I'm not fucking sorry, I'm not sorry anymore
There's a special place in hell for you
There's a special place in hell for you
I'm sure they've got your number at the door

When I was young I used to hate myself
Because bigots like you were given pedestals
You proselytize in the name of religion but it's all for show
You're gonna be locked out of heaven
There's no repenting, there is no coming back
You're going to hell with a mark on your back
Where you'll fry like a saint but unlike Joan of Arc
You're not worth the piss to put out the spark

I'm not sorry, I'm not fucking sorry, I'm not sorry anymore
There's a special place in hell for you
There's a special place in hell for you
I'm sure they've got your number at the door

You spent your whole life trying to make others
Feel bad for things that they cannot control
And now you're dying, clinging on to all the things you tell yourself
But you know in your soul
You will be forgotten

And you will be forgotten
Like the snow and the ice
While basking in a warm summer sun

I'm not sorry, I'm not fucking sorry, I'm not sorry anymore
There's a special place in hell for you
There's a special place in hell for you
I'm sure they've got your number at the door