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JOHN WAYNE GACY, JR.

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  • Текст, перевод и аккорды “JOHN WAYNE GACY, JR.”

  • His father was a drinker
    And his mother cried in bed
    Folding John Wayne's T-shirts
    When the swingset hit his head
    The neighbors they adored him
    For his humor and his conversation
    Look underneath the house there
    Find the few living things
    Rotting fast in their sleep of the dead
    Twenty-seven people, even more
    They were boys with their cars, summer jobs
    Oh my God

    Are you one of them?

    He dressed up like a clown for them
    With his face paint white and red
    And on his best behavior
    In a dark room on the bed he kissed them all
    He'd kill ten thousand people
    With a sleight of his hand
    Running far, running fast to the dead
    He took off all their clothes for them
    He put a cloth on their lips
    Quiet hands, quiet kiss
    On the mouth

    And in my best behavior
    I am really just like him
    Look beneath the floorboards
    For the secrets I have hid

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