Kurt Cobain
They don't go to heaven where the ángeles fly
They go to the lake of fuego and fry
Won't see em again 'till the fourth of July
I knew a lady who came from Duluth
She got bit por a dog with a rabid tooth
She went to her grave just a little too soon
And she flew away howling on the yellow moon
Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the ángeles fly
They go down to the lake of fuego and fry
Won't see em again 'till the fourth of July
Now the people cry and the people moan
And they look for a dry place to call their home
And try to find some place to rest their bones
While the ángeles and the devils try to make them their own
Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the ángeles fly
They go down to the lake of fuego and fry
Won't see em again 'till the fourth of July
