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Artiste:
Mad Conductor (The)
Titre:
Feed The Beast
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
Sex sells but you can get arrested if you buy it So I myself have yet to be a client Plus I'm dead broke And it feels wrong Like when I'm watching Check And double check And it makes me sick to my stomach in 1936 I was posing as a durolect In a socialite socitey as an expiriement And neither was my sponsor I was a protege Fissilla was a killa And she wanted me on the blade I like to make believe that I'm a product of simplicity Brought up on the oh-zone brains in missouri Runnin with the sticks And the bango picks Far from the guns and the Rambo flicks A man told me that blood was thicker than the waves He ran from the water when he saw it break the barracade Lucky man in his land-locked state And he hobbled my legs now I can't walk straight Like utopic MC from the green cakes of sinagoull Bouncing off the kennell wall like a tennis ball I busted out now I'm on the road to Zanza bar Me without a microphone is like --------------? Remember back in the black days of dracula Mass packs of rats setting traps for me in Latvia Like Frankenstein and electroshock therapy A fractured spine and a loss of any memory I've long since fled the great state of Texas Running from an hours worth of minute men with death sticks Out of mind in their miserable lives Throwing knives from crossing their invisible lines These are pitiful times here, man And I can't hang no more My beans are boiled but I'm bouncing back to Bangalore I'm out of place in this planet full of humans Recredit covered satellites raise up consumin I don't really know how many fish are in the pond And I can't count the stars on which I've wished upon There is no space between us And the ------and everthing and nothing at all... (Thanks to Beth for these lyrics)