So long have I waited to meet my maker.
But because of all the things I've done I never will.
I'm condemed to Hell for all my sins.
Six feet under my corpse will rot.
Maggots feast on my flesh.
My bones become piles of dust in my coffin.
Nail by nail I sealed my fait.
Sending myself to an early grave.
Death's cold embrace is my only comfort now.
Never will I meet my maker.
Only Lucifer awaits me now.
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~Queen of Hate~
and remember folks imitation is the sincerest form of flattery
and remember folks imitation is the sincerest form of flattery