Wallace

Sing Sung.

It\'s all over the fat lady has sung.

Old nicks disciples i am now among.

A wretched place i now reside.

No one has feelings or personal pride.

Flames burn high.

Tortured voices cry.

A place for the wicked.

Christ i don\'t think i can stick it.

Everywhere as hot as a desert sun.

Here I\'m stuck, from this hell i can not run.

The fat lady don\'t sing no more.

How that has saddened me deep to my soulless core.