Hit Best Days Of Our Afterlife
I was born in hell
Was raised in heaven
Grew my wings and horns
When I turned eleven
Something is wrong with me
I just cannot feel it
Everytime I earn my pride
I just rip and peel it
This is because...
My father was the evil
My mother was a saint
Everyonce comes up to me
And then they just pry and faint
These are the problems
Of an angel-devil child
These are the problems
Of an angel-devil child
I was born in hell
Was raised in heaven
Grew my wings and horns
When I turned eleven
Something is wrong with me
I just cannot feel it
Everytime I earn my pride
I just rip and peel it
This is because...
My father was the evil
My mother was a saint
Everyonce comes up to me
And then they just pry and faint
These are the problems
Of an angel-devil child
These are the problems
Of an angel-devil child
