Angels of Porn II

My bedroom smells like rotten food, and, I guess, so do I

It's harder to be good in here than it is to starve and die

I'd give my body to Satan if I could only keep my soul

But I can't seem to find the split between them anymore

My hair is falling out again and I don't really care

I try to stir my conscience, it was never really there

Your fingers up inside of me feel like fingers down my throat

Everything is fine in heaven, but I'll never get to know

Make sacrifice in bathtubs and stain bed covers

Soak all my clothes in holy water

And drown them like a crying son

Drown them like a crying daughter

Praying in the night to the angels of porn

Nails in their wrists and knees on the floor

Great lakes full of cum extracted from everyone