Celibate Good Times

Celibate Good Times Lyrics

The preacher said it’s hot as hell. Got the devil on his window sill, going down. His t-shirt read “the boys won’t tell” but if you want to watch there’s a tape he’ll sell, going round. So pray it’s him, not me. There are saints that should be hung. Forget the cross whorship the gun. Bang bang. I hope your hell is hot enough. Forget the cross whorship the gun. You’re at the gates and almost home. Bang bang. I hope your hell is hot enough. The preacher said i’m gonna fail with three days left til he posts bail, going down. So grab your sh*t no time to pack. At the end, no coming back to this town. You can see through lies. He’s scared for his life. When will he know.