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• Artiste: Bulletboys
• Titre: For The Damned
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I don't care about the future now 'Cuz it don't care about me Paparazzi, glitter, gossips Lord they always crucify me Street urchin baby It's someone's old lady on the lam He's the man of the hour And anyone who's seen the face of the damned Whoa Lift your glasses for a final toast L'haim, ching-ching cheers Degredated, desecrated Been playin' Russian roulette for all my years She's a street urchin baby It's someone's old lady on the lam He's the man of the hour And anyone who's seen the face of the damned Whoa The face of the damned Oooh There's a message here you probably won't get Just what I'm thinking about That the bad die young And the good will never carry the clout, ooh She's a street urchin baby It's someone's old lady on the lam He's the man of the hour And anyone who's seen the face of the damned It's a chip on a shoulder As a woman grows older without grace A priest with a problem With anyone who wears the face of the damned Whoa! The face of the damned Sings about me, oh