The Mephistopheles Of Los Angeles
I don't know if I cannot open upI've been opened enoughI don't know if I can open upI'm not a birthday presentI'm aggressive aggressiveThe past is overNow the passive seems so pathetic
Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?
I'm feeling stoned and alone like a hereticAnd I'm ready to meet my makerI feel sole and alone like a hereticI'm ready to meet my makerLazarus has got no dirt on meLazarus has got no dirt on meAnd I'll rise to every occasionI'm the Mephistopheles of Los AngelesOf Los Angeles
Don't know if I cannot open upI been opened too muchDouble-crossed and glossed over in my pathos
I'm feeling stoned and alone like a hereticAnd I'm ready to meet my makerI feel sole and alone like a hereticI'm ready to meet my makerLazarus has got no dirt on meLazarus has got no dirt on meAnd I'll rise to every occasionI'm the Mephistopheles of Los AngelesOf Los Angeles
Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?