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Here Comes Hell
par
The .357 String Band
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Well ain't life a b*t*h, and don't the devil got horns And didn't Jesus Christ have a crown made of thorns I got a gun on my hip, a curse on my lips I've had a sign hanging round my neck since the day I was born Every single one of them has got its own feel I'm riding on my wings, baby here comes hell Well the devil's got a pitchfork, but I got a gun It's said it ain't easy, but it sure is fun I got Jesus on my side, and a dashboard on my right When I ride, I'm going to ride straight into that setting sun Every single one of them has got its own feel I'm riding on my wings, baby here comes hell Well the devil has got us with thе short end of the stick And I'm sick with a hepatitis and my tonguеs getting get ripped But remember my friends that you must repent If you're grateful then the serpent's bite won't ever make you sick Every single one of them has got its own feel I'm riding on my wings, baby here comes hell
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