For the Damned - Bulletboys

I don’t care about the future now

'Cuz it don’t care about me Paparazzi, glitter, gossips

Lord they always crucify me Street urchin baby

It’s someone’s old lady on the lam

He’s the man of the hour

And anyone who’s seen the face of the damned

Whoa

Lift your glasses for a final toast

L’haim, ching-ching cheers

Degredated, desecrated

Been playin' Russian roulette for all my years

She’s a street urchin baby

It’s someone’s old lady on the lam

He’s the man of the hour

And anyone who’s seen the face of the damned

Whoa

The face of the damned

Oooh

There’s a message here you probably won’t get

Just what I’m thinking about

That the bad die young

And the good will never carry the clout, ooh

She’s a street urchin baby

It’s someone’s old lady on the lam

He’s the man of the hour

And anyone who’s seen the face of the damned

It’s a chip on a shoulder

As a woman grows older without grace

A priest with a problem

With anyone who wears the face of the damned

Whoa!

The face of the damned

Sings about me, oh