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• Artiste: Pica Beats (The)
• Titre: Cognac & Rum
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They taught me songs of cognac and rum to keep away all them spiritual doldrums They'll start to burn and I should've ran slept like a stick in the old beaver dam and we will start a hungry war like Napoleon, by shooting off our mouth and the beads of sweat are so gullible, that they will glow... They sacrificed at the ports of Brunei They sold me out with their chins to the sky might be my son, let me see your hands I should've drowned you when I had the chance and we will fly through the land like syphilis, cutting off their balls And their punishment will run in a caravan, led by shouts... Some grace lands, are like a little secret there to keep you interested On daytime shifts I'll dig through the trash on nighttime runs I'll sort out the past If wishes lived where the bone breakers quake these lips of mine they will drink from the lake they are crushed by the cunts of the colony, a timid goal golem and there's a fence hiding backyard dividends, and precious few... Those bottles shatter at the sound of dispute and bottlecaps are a chorus of roots The bass is sung with a conscience renewed by melodies that will never conclude So by and by there is grass on the battleground, and the weed grows again and the soft little strip of an arrowtip, will never cut... And the broad man, broad shoulders squared... against the bomb It's a brave little bayleaf cold... and curing strong It's winter's night west virginia style... I'll call it home it's summer's eve the clam shell is cracked... The mussel's out