5 Star Grave - Ain't That Saint | Текст песни

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• 5 Star Grave
• Ain't That Saint

She’s ridin’ fast on the miracle lane
5 inches heels and a bottle of ale
She’s goin’ down with the devil tonight
Holdin’ her breath for the very last time

My living fire, my alibi
You want me, you need me
My razor queen, my guillotine
You hold me, you kill me

Ain’t too despicable god that I worship her lips
More than scars & thorns of your sole precious son?
I don’t need the body of Christ or your funeral culture
‘coz all of my sins are conceived in the fire

L.A. look and a porcelain skin
This baby angel’s got a devil within
She lights the candle and continues to grind
And won’t be over till the end of the night

My living fire, my alibi
You want me, you need me
My razor queen, my guillotine
You hold me, you kill me

Ain’t too despicable god that I worship her lips
More than scars & thorns of your sole precious son?
I don’t need the body of Christ or your funeral culture
‘coz all of my sins are conceived in the fire

Ain’t too despicable god that I worship her lips
More than scars & thorns of your sole precious son?
I don’t need the body of Christ or your funeral culture
‘coz all of my sins are conceived in the fire

[solo]

Ain’t too despicable god that I worship her lips
More than scars & thorns of your sole precious son?
I don’t need the body of Christ or your funeral culture
‘coz all of my sins are conceived in the fire

Ain’t too despicable god that I worship her lips
More than scars & thorns of your sole precious son?
I don’t need the body of Christ or your funeral culture
‘coz all of my sins are conceived in the fire
by a saviour of fire


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