Vessels
Molester
Dear Mr. Coleman, I hope your fingers rotI pray that you will be the last of your kindThis is a warning to you, hell will seem like a ride compared to what awaits for youThat evil look you gave her, that contradicting smileThose goosebumps swell with your perversionHe whispers "I will kill you"The sweat drops from his browHe knows he'll have to face her fatherYour old wrinkled hands and those pebbles for teethI hope you had a good life, now put your hands to your kneesWith the TV so loud, all the neighbors will hear is a re-run from Seinfeld and they'll cover their earsThey will never speak your name, they will never hear your nameDear Mr. Coleman I hope your fingers rotI pray that you will be the last of your kindThat evil look you gave her, that contradicting smileThose goosebumps swell with your perversion
From Letras Mania