Molester

Dear Mr. Coleman I hope your fingers rot

I pray that you will be the last of your kind



That evil look you gave her, that contradicting smile

Those goosebumps swell with your perversion

He whispers "I will kill you"

The sweat drops from his brow

He knows he'll have to face her father



Your old wrinkled hands and those pebbles for teeth

I hope you had a good life, now put your hands to your knees

With the TV so loud, all the neighbors will hear is a re-run from seinfeld and they'll cover their ears.



They will never speak your name, they will never hear your name

Dear Mr. Coleman I hope your fingers rot

I pray that you will be the last of your kind

That evil look you gave her, that contradicting smile

Those goosebumps swell with your perversion.