deepundergroundpoetry.com
We're Going to Hell
We all go to hell. We're all going to hell.
I'm writing this letter and wishing you well,
Mama, we all go to hell.
When we go don't blame us. We'll let the fires just bathe us.
These words have made us famous. We'll always crave this.
And when you go don't return to me my love.
We all go to hell. We're all going to hell.
It's really quite pleasant, except for the smell.
Mama, we all go to hell.
Well Mother, what the war did to my legs and to my tongue,
If you could coddle the infection. They can amputate at once.
You should've been, I could have been a sun.
We all are gonna die. We're all gonna die.
Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry,
Mama, we're all gonna die.
We're damned after all. Through fortune and flame we fall.
And if you can stay then I'll show you the way,
To return from the ashes you call.
We're all full of lies. We're meant for the flies.
And right now they're building a coffin your size,
Mama, we're all full of lies.
We all carry on, our brothers in arms are gone.
So raise your glass high, for tomorrow we die,
And return from the ashes you call.
I'm writing this letter and wishing you well,
Mama, we all go to hell.
When we go don't blame us. We'll let the fires just bathe us.
These words have made us famous. We'll always crave this.
And when you go don't return to me my love.
We all go to hell. We're all going to hell.
It's really quite pleasant, except for the smell.
Mama, we all go to hell.
Well Mother, what the war did to my legs and to my tongue,
If you could coddle the infection. They can amputate at once.
You should've been, I could have been a sun.
We all are gonna die. We're all gonna die.
Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry,
Mama, we're all gonna die.
We're damned after all. Through fortune and flame we fall.
And if you can stay then I'll show you the way,
To return from the ashes you call.
We're all full of lies. We're meant for the flies.
And right now they're building a coffin your size,
Mama, we're all full of lies.
We all carry on, our brothers in arms are gone.
So raise your glass high, for tomorrow we die,
And return from the ashes you call.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 597
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.