| We kill the girls to get paid
|
| And put the whole damn room on the edge of the blade
|
| You’ll get far, stay clean
|
| And if the world stops believing, I’ll keep believing
|
| That the world could make a change
|
| (All I know is I won’t stop believing)
|
| And put the suicide dolls as the last ones to mate
|
| (All I know is I won’t stop believing)
|
| Come hard, stay clean
|
| (You're the next if you don’t stop your creeping)
|
| And singing songs for the damned now
|
| (You're the next if you)
|
| Hail! |
| Hail!
|
| 'Cause the king is gone
|
| And if you don’t stop believing, we’ll keep believing
|
| You put the record on
|
| And live the life that you’re making, shots that you’re taking
|
| So grab the cash and run
|
| And let the suits watch each other kill one another
|
| It doesn’t matter if the words don’t mean a thing
|
| You gotta kiss that ring
|
| Well, alright
|
| Move like the wolves, keep the faith
|
| There ain’t a dry eye left in the back of the place
|
| Is it hard to stay clean?
|
| And if you all keep believing, I’ll keep believing
|
| That the world drives the saints
|
| (All I know is I won’t stop believing)
|
| And put the shotgun shells in the hills it makes
|
| (All I know is I won’t stop believing)
|
| So come hard, stay clean
|
| (You're the next if you don’t stop your creeping)
|
| Because they don’t give a damn, now
|
| (You're the next if you)
|
| Hail! |
| Hail!
|
| 'Cause the king is gone
|
| And if you don’t stop believing, we’ll keep believing
|
| You got your leather on
|
| And live the life that you’re making, shots that you’re taking
|
| It doesn’t matter if the words don’t mean a thing
|
| You gotta kiss that ring
|
| Hail, hail 'cause the king is gone
|
| Hail, hail 'cause the king is gone
|
| Hail, hail 'cause the king is gone
|
| Hail, hail 'cause the king is, the king is gone
|
| Hail! |
| Hail! |
| Hail! |
| Hail! |
| Hail!
|
| 'Cause the king is gone
|
| And if you don’t stop believing, we’ll keep believing
|
| And get your leather on
|
| And live the life that you’re making, shots that you’re taking
|
| So grab the cash and run
|
| And let the suits watch each other kill one another
|
| It doesn’t matter if the words don’t mean a thing
|
| Fist up, head down
|
| Hail, hail to the king |