---

I don't care what the young men say

I'll carry on regardless

Thoughts of the past will bury me

The future is nothing but a memory

Poison-tongued harlots, they play

Play their whimsical games

And those sore old bastards keep

Up with their slack-jawed habits, yeah

Your zealous delusions

Make me laugh

Ad nauseum

I got burn on my lips and I got bane in my blood

My rapture is a reverie

And I don't care what the fuck you say

You're no god, no you're not, you're not

Your zealous delusions

Make me laugh

Ad nauseum