I like hell

It seems kind of fine

You do some bad

And you run a little and fry

I would burn with a sick little smile

Hanging

As my skins melting

My bones would find another

Melt together the two glued

Hell

Is pretty bad

But I think I could get used to it

I'd get as comfortable

As one can

In the river of fire

In the demise of the rotten man