| Beauteous rot!
|
| (Ohhhh!)
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| Rot!
|
| Legions of sex slaves have flocked to my call
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| You are the most grotesque of them all
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| Warts and protrusions that beg for the grave
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| Ironic, bubonic, pimpled and shaved
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| They live to gobble the puss from my warts
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| I live to spread my disease at each port
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| Distribute knob-cheese like some soupe de la mort
|
| (Ohhhh!)
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| Rot!
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| You are born in the most disgusting of ways
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| Some become cripples, some become gay
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| Others spend their money trying to become that way
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| You think you’re beautiful but what the hell is that?
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| I find beauty in rolls of sweaty fat
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| It’s not your complexion that gives me an erection
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| Oh no!
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| Your beauty makes me sick
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| I’d rather fuck a troll
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| Kick you in the head
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| Vomit in the hole
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| Face turns to snot
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| You used to be hot
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| Beauty
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| Is rot
|
| (Ohh-ohh-ohh
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| Ohh-ohh-ohh
|
| Ohh-ohh-ohh
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| Ohh-ohh-ohh)
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| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) You spend hours smearing cream on your face
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| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) What you need is to be hit with a mace
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| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) Get tied to a horse, get dragged through the streets
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| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) Hung by your heels and pelted with beets
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| But still you are smearing cream on your face
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| What you need is to be reduced to paste
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| Wander the countryside blind in one eye
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| Sucking the dicks of dead dogs to survive
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| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) Who decides what’s beautiful?
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| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) Nobody but you
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| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) I find fascination
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| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) As your guts are turned to stew
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| Forever titillating
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| A pile of rotting feet
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| All you are is brains and bones
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| A sack of rancid meat
|
| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) Ja, ja, ja
|
| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) Ja, ja, ja
|
| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) Ja, ja, ja
|
| (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh!) Ja… |