The Mephistopheles Of Los Angeles

I don't know if I cannot open up I've been opened enough I don't know if I can open up I'm not a birthday present I'm aggressive aggressive The past is over Now the passive seems so pathetic Are we fated, faithful, or fatal Are we fated, faithful, or fatal I'm feeling stoned and alone like a heretic And I'm ready to meet my maker I feel sole and alone like a heretic I'm ready to meet my maker Lazarus has got no dirt on me Lazarus has got no dirt on me And I'll rise to every occasion I'm the Mephistopheles of Los Angeles Of Los Angeles Don't know if I cannot open up I been opened too much Double crossed and glossed over in my pathos I'm feeling stoned and alone like a heretic And I'm ready to meet my maker I feel sole and alone like a heretic I'm ready to meet my maker Lazarus has got no dirt on me Lazarus has got no dirt on me And I'll rise to every occasion I'm the Mephistopheles of Los Angeles Of Los Angeles Are we fated, faithful, or fatal Are we fated, faithful, or fatal