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Celibate Good Times

The preacher said it's hot as hell

Got the devil on his window sill, going down

His t-shirt read "the boys won't tell"

But if you want to watch there's a tape he'll sell, going round

So pray it's him, not me

There are saints that should be hung

Forget the cross whorship the gun

Bang bang

I hope your hell is hot enough

Forget the cross whorship the gun

You're at the gates and almost home

Bang bang

I hope your hell is hot enough

The preacher said i'm gonna fail with three days left til he posts bail, going down

So grab your shit no time to pack

At the end, no coming back to this town

You can see through lies

He's scared for his life

When will he know.

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