Contactez-nous

• Artiste: Hyades
• Titre: Wops Still Thrash
Assurez-vous que les corrections sont tout à fait exactes
S'il vous plaît, les mettez en évidence en quelque sorte!
Vous pouvez, par exemple, écrire
INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
Two years ago we told you our vicissitudes More than CD's we were selling our bermudas We were without a deal Without shoes and without meal Madam Min cleaned cupfuls my "everyday" was awful Skeleton left us to philosophize Jorgy get back to play his ho-hum borin' craze But nothing disheartened us, neither to be halved So Rob bore hours of bike to get Rod join the band Despite Jerico's threats he started to thrash What do you fear to rest in briefs without dress? Ten ill-fated years and then we found a worldwide deal We didn't believe it: a dream becomin' real Roland won great slam and entered Hyades But seeing him on stage we said "who fuck is this?" Skeleton smelt the smell of outcomes Reborn the posse of dead brains 'n' broken bones Wops still thrash It seems we play it well also without mandolino Torre di Pisa, piazza San Marco And the Wops still thrash No pizza, no mafia, no soccer No Moggi, no Totti, no pasta Wops still thrash Touring across Europe on a ramshackle van Without a motherfuckin' cent But the Wops still thrash Back home we'll find our bosses angry For our absence from work Lose your illusions and abuse theirs Delay by delay the album goes out on its way No fucking thing of course can go right Clearing CDs through Customs has been a mortal fight Rip-offs are ready to skin this band Never bend forward and always look at your back Nothing brings us down, we are alive and well This album kick ass, we're gonna raise hell Wops still thrash It seems we play it well also without mandolino Torre di Pisa, piazza San Marco And the Wops still thrash No pizza, no mafia, no soccer No Moggi, no Totti, no pasta Wops still thrash Touring across Europe on a ramshackle van Without a motherfuckin' cent But the Wops still thrash Back home we'll find our bosses angry For our absence from work