Misanthropic lyrics by The Gloom In The Corner - original song full text. Official Misanthropic lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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The Gloom In The Corner – Misanthropic lyrics
"Las Plagas de la mente
Yo soy a quien temes."

"They call me Sherlock Bones
Hellhound for the Devil's Throne

I’ll kill every last one of you
If it means I feel something
Hail to the king

Hell walks this earth
And it dwells beneath my skin
Born of a dying mother and violent father
I'll do my best to snuff out your existence
I was there when the rain fell;
When the reaper screamed “fear me”
And helped him out as well
That boy did well, but I coulda done better
So if you hear me coming
Don't run, you won't get far

Tell me what it's like, tell me what it’s like
Tell me what it's like being me, motherfucker

It’s like kicking rocks in the yard, with intentions to harm;
If death's on your heels, you won't get far
The devil's on my back, the target's on my head
Humanity's on my chest constricting my breath
Disdain, with a foul taste; noose as a necklace
I can't praise God while keeping a straight face
Laughing away at his fucking mistakes
I'm not psychopathic, just a little misanthropic

Narcissistic to the bone

So crawl, crawl on your knees
Beg for forgiveness
For all your dirty deeds
And your dirty needs
On your dirty knees;
In this house of wolves, no one hears your pleas

No one talks, not even Jay says hi;
Just because he never got to kiss
His lover goodbye, huh

Just 'cause I was the one that kicked out her chair
It was funny, watching her dangle though; gasping for air
Well, this whole shit show is ruled by an iron fist;
I’m not surprised that dick made a hit list

He kicks rocks in the yard with the intentions to harm;
If I'm on your heels, you won't get too far
The Devil's on my back, the target's on my head
Humanity's on my chest constricting my breath
(Up, down, spin around)
Disdain, with a foul taste; noose as a necklace;
I can't praise what's not really there with a straight face
Doctor please, don't mishear me;
I'm not misogynistic, just a little misanthropic

I was left outside the devil's gates
So I overthrew him, and now the demons bow to me
Not even God will save me now;
Don't you know; God Abandoned Me

Each case comes another kill;
47 down, 47 to go

I'm a bag of bones
For the Bad Luck Hellhounds

Iron cuffs, slapped on your wrist tight
Spit blood, standing on your windpipe
I'm that guy that brings a knife to a gunfight and wins
(Only evil within, like a knife blade under the skin)

"A kill a day keeps the demons at bay;
But what happens when the only demon left is me?"
Choir, tell me, tell me, tell me; fucking tell me

(Burning down your yard with intentions to harm
If he's on your heels, you won't get too far
The devil's on your back, the target's on your head
Humanity's on your chest, constricting your breath.)

Disdain, with a foul taste; noose as a necklace
(You can't praise God with the devil in front of your face)
Laughing away at all your mistakes
I'm not psychopathic, I just don’t give a fuck what you think

Fuck you

"They call him Sherlock Bones."

I'm not psychopathic, okay maybe just a little bit
I'm not psychopathic, just a little misanthropic."
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