men of flesh hitch a ride shorts and tans
and greasy thighs at night drive
into slimy bars and piss it out on our front
yards they're looking in our window
now real child of hell nobody's seen him
real child of hell nobody knows what shape
she takes st paddy's day, old irish man shamrocks
painted on his face mumbles warnings from ireland
in the back i sense a fight and that old man
has done his deed real child of hell
nobody's seen him real child of hell
nobody knows what shape he takes this stage
i'm on gets repossesed by vigilantes acting bored
the mindless fan wants my dress and
i can't tell which one is worse and
i can't see the cursing child
real child of hell nobody's seen him
real child of hell nobody knows what shape she takes