Shadow of the Cemetery Man

Spin a turntable for the ugly ones
Rocky mountain high in the California sun
One is, one is, one is us
Hitching a ride on a black magic bus

She gotta a rock and she gotta a roll
I don't give a fuck, I ain't never growing old
She gotta a rock and she gotta a roll
I don't give a fuck, I ain't never growing old

(All right everybody, on the count of three)
(Gotta let it all hang out)
(One, two three, go!)

Dig it, sexy mama
Well, I'm a cemetery man
Dig it, sexy mama
Well, I'm a cemetery man

Yellow submarine said, "Jump right in"
A self-made freak just selling you some skin now
Mock your Christ with crowning thorns
Praying to a demon sporting cheap plastic horns, yeah

Hate is your God, so twist and shout
Get out on the floor and work that fucker out now
Hate is your God, so twist and shout
Get out on the floor and work that fucker out now

(All right everybody, on the count of three)
(Gotta let it all hang out)
(One, two three, go!)

Dig it, sexy mama
Well, I'm a cemetery man
Dig it, sexy mama
Well, I'm a cemetery man

Take your baby over to dead's man curve
Going down, down, down if you got the nerve
Take your baby over to dead man's curve
Going down, down, down if you got the nerve now

(Dig, dig, dig, dig, dig)
Dig it, sexy mama
Well, I'm a cemetery man
Dig it, sexy mama
Well, I'm a cemetery man



Credits
Writer(s): Chris Harris, John Lowery, Rob Zombie
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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