Album: Cultosaurus Erectus
( - D. Roeser - )
Blood of bat, tail of newt
Wing of metal, gold or steel
Fight of health, flash of pain
Staff of life, or poison rain
If he really thinks we're the devil, then let's send 'em to hell
Fast food, fast cars
Fast women, movie stars
Time of trouble, time of trial
Turn to Memphis, pray awhile
If he really thinks we're the devil, then let's send 'em to hell
Anxious lovers, bums in the street
Jackals in waistcoats, men in sheets
Purple mountains, waves of grain
Grace of God, thy will be done
If he really thinks we're the devil, then let's send 'em to hell
If he really thinks we're the devil, then let's send 'em to hell
(shouted) If he really thinks we're the devil, then let's send 'em to hell