I'm scared to death Of myself I can't feel anything I can't feel anything I have become the pain I have become my own demons I'm tired of being a punk
i will bring you the truth it's 1917 all over again about a bloody revolution that's about to begin i got my torch and pitch fork got the day off work
there ain't nothing on this mother they think we don't own it they try so hard to make us forget, get they think we don't own it they try so hard to make
Giant steps are what you take Walking on the moon I hope my legs don't break Walking on the moon We could walk forever Walking on the moon We could live
like some girl in a snuff video with a chord around her neck and her veins full of blow she's dancing like she doesn't know that she's hanging in the
everything inside my house is broke the stove don't work my window is cracked it's all fucked up a hall of broken mirrors path of broken glass everything
such pretty packaging we're all in the front row salivating to watch the legless fucking palms sweaty on the floor push push i can't see myself there'
I would die for peanut butter Come on y'all! Go! Are you ready? Start the riot! Start the riot! Start the riot! Start the riot, now! Fight! War! Fire
I didn't go out today I won't go out tomorrow I'll just sit at home and wallow in my sorrow have you got some hope i can borrow I used to think so big
Перевод: Yokko Канно. Выполнить Rabbit Junk.
her by the hair and drag her across the Sahara (Bitch!) You aware of this rap terrorist with a therapist With a hair up his ass like a rabbit crawled
tools Took her off the showroom floor no money down Near the Chrysler buildin' in the heart of Midtown Two hundred horse-power under the hood Junk in
cat say Fuck around with Fasion get your whole shit bit Spend crazy years with the blues pay dues Before I met the Psycho is in the junk yard juice But
show them the air is rarefied Don't give a damn 'cuz the groove is hellafied Grew up punk, listen to the funk I'm a hyper type of fella that does not touch junk
't no jaevla fucking spider Well, I don't torture bunnies I do my hop and jump So don't come running winning When your embryo is junk I'm a black rabbit
more song (For the maker) Chickenman, chickenman On the road to Athens I saw a dead deer on the highway I slipped into a desert Five prairie dogs and a rabbit
by the hair and drag her across the Sahara (Bitch!) You aware of this rap terrorist with a therapist With a hair up his ass like a rabbit crawled up his
dog now (Hands don't stay long) Drives himself behind Never sleep with the deepest man Who starts out with the smallest car And now a piece of junk Eating rabbits
