Once was a woman and once was a man Who'd never been lovers, just good friends Both of them happy with rings on their hands But they'd dreamed of each
I've got one more nail to polish A little red ribbon to add to my hair He'll be glad he left work early When he sees what waiting at the top of the stairs
In the Lilies, naked, and the rain Is falling at me, at my trembling skin In the flames, in desire's web I feel you, Opium in my dreams Sister of flowers
Same old scene, strapped up for show Yet another match, let the good times roll Ain?t no baller in this world compares We are the champs, start saying
My life would make you break down My call can set you on time But when you ask for my help I TURN AND WALK AWAY Don't please me, ease me, shut the fuck
Enroll the superior hype, submit to the tribe Herd mentality style, brothers unite Support the outlaw war, cannon fodder Settle the score, humiliation
I pledge obedience for the brag Of the United States of Amoebica And to the repugnance for which it stands One nation under goth in denial With obesity
Don?t want your interest Don?t need your worries too For what it?s worth, no less Giving up on everything I?m leaving it all behind The crucial sacrifice
Alright y?all Long time no see, good to be back Host of the finest, my friend you?re the best This town, this bar, Lord of my dreams Start the merry-
This one goes out to all reality star fuckers and wannabes The sick and twisted twenty four seven three hundred And sixty five worldwide exhibitionists
You used to be ok And you were never late You used to pay on time Used to be fine You used to know the rules You normally kept it cool Now I want back
Mr. Maker, please never ever again The fundamental concept of Illness in vain Mr. Mistaker, made a bummer when Creating too much to drink THY WILL BE
There?s gonna be a riot tonight Lose your head, dive into the fight Sense and sanity, leave it behind Set it off, go way outta line Reach the limit and
Searching for a drop of liquor, feeling like a desert lake Empty bottles fill the place, for God's sake Stumbling down the stairs, got to get out in
MOJN If there is a show well of course we'll go If it's hardcore we will not go slow Kreuzberg hustlers we'll come crushing in We're taking care of business
Strange days in the neighbourhood Like stepping on foreign ground This is the place of our roots These are the hands that built this land COULD NOT CARE
Last call Last call Gotta move Better get your gear New sounds New grounds New rounds to be taken So let hardcore rule Join the crew of rambling bruisers
Michael Stipe, sissy whining tart Fucking Phil Collins, the pent up fart Stevie Wonder seems way too glad Gary Moore is not bluesy but sad Armstrong,
