
Mama, we all go to hell.
I'm writing this letter and wishing you well,
Mama, we all go to hell.
Mama, we're all gonna die.
Stop asking me questions, I hate to see you cry,
Mama, we're all gonna die.
We let this fire just bathe us, yeah.
You made us oh so famous;
we'll never let you go.
And when you go don't return to me my love.
Mama, we're meant for the flies.
And right now they're building a coffin your size.
Mama, we're all full of lies.
You should've raised a baby girl,
I should've been a better son.
If you could counter the infection,
they can amputate at once.
You should've been,
I could have been a better son.
We let this fire just bathe us, yeah.
You made us oh so famous;
we'll never let you go.
for what you've done there.
You'll find a, a place for you.
And just you mind your manners when you go."
that's right.
Mama, we all go to hell.
It's really quite pleasant except for the smell,
Mama, we all go to hell.
Mama, Mama, Mama, ohhhh.
I'd maybe then sing you a song.
You will cry us to rise up alive.
Through fortune and fame we fall.
And if you can say that I'll show you the way,
and straight from the ashes you crawl.
Like our brothers in arms are gone.
So raise your guns high for tomorrow we die,
and return from the ashes you'll fall
Ó,mazané...já když tam dám takhle song,tak to mám rozměr videa...