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• Artiste: Archers Of Loaf
• Titre: Hate Paste
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Bit my lip And it's the same thing. Now I'm reduced to a pulp. Your undisturbed and decorated Decorations lie. You're hounded by pulse Stabbed by spit And your brain fits Despite your ears. Another one has run in. Rottin and gossiped, You're all used up With a burst up shell. (?) Why're you gonna try it If you know you don't like it How're you gonna give it up If you ain't got it. Why're you gonna use it If you think that it's broke. Why're you gonna swell the show (?) The things that you're breaking down, down, down. Down cold thresh flesh paste Deliver hate paste. Voices sick and swelling You say you don't like it. You say you don't like it. But you just don't get it You just don't get it. You're hounded by pulse, Stabbed by spit And your brain shits To clog your ears. A casual mark Made by a bird. What you lost With your fair hands. Why're you gonna try it If you know you don't like it. How're you gonna give it up If you ain't got it. Why're you gonna use it If you think that it's broke Why're you gonna swell the show The things that you're breaking down, down, down