I can pronounce purgatory, and you can do the limbo.
I can paint a demon, a really evil gringo.
But i can´t spell heaven, cause i commited all seven.
Condemned to spend my years with nothing divine to spell.
Is it true, you´d rather see me behind the letters of hell.
Despite goodwill, despite my kindness will this hand be burnt where the witch of the worst was.
Send me the holy, send me the righteous, these human sheep in slaughter house churches.
I can´t spell heaven, even from the ember of the roach, reaching for a star.
I couldn´t get as high as all your saints are.
The perverted priests that follow the rules but corrupt creation.
Or perfectly well spoken politicians that bleed the nation.
I don´t know how to spell heaven and perhaps don´t deserve it.
I make mistakes, share my imperfect self, your high and mighty aint worth it.
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