Letra da Música: Best Days of Our Afterlife - Hit

I was born in hell
Was raised in heaven
Grew my wings and horns
When I turned eleven
Something is wrong with me
I just cannot feel it
Everytime I earn my pride
I just rip and peel it

This is because...

My father was the evil
My mother was a saint
Everyonce comes up to me
and then they just pry and faint

These are the problems
of an angel-devil child
These are the problems
of an angel-devil child

I was born in hell
Was raised in heaven
Grew my wings and horns
When I turned eleven
Something is wrong with me
I just cannot feel it
Everytime I earn my pride
I just rip and peel it

This is because...

My father was the evil
My mother was a saint
Everyonce comes up to me
and then they just pry and faint

These are the problems
of an angel-devil child
These are the problems
of an angel-devil child