/pol/ - International /Pol/itics & /Bant/er

They all laughed as he turned around slow
They said, "You ain't welcome 'round here anymore
You just might as well go"
He wiped the blood from his face as he slowly came to his knees
He said, "I'll be back when you least expect it
And hell's coming with me"
Hell's coming with me
There is a hill at the bottom of the valley
Where all the poor souls go when they die
And if you listen real close, you can hear 'em like a ghost
And you're never gonna make it out alive
There is a town at the bottom of that hill
They got a secret that they keep like a slave
They got a black magic preacher
We'd do well to let him teach her
You'll be heading up that hill to the grave