May
Sunday 17 October 2010 photo 1/2
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I devour gold bar for dinner.
Diamons for dessert, crude oil for cream.
My name is Beelzebub, Master of the stratoshere.
I am unbelievably cool, respected beyond measure.
In my left hand a Snicker, in my right hand a Mars.
My PR manager: Karl Marx.
In my left hand a Snicker, in my right hand a Mars.
My PR manager: Karl Marx.
Capital, capital!
Capital, capital!
I devour cities, wash them down with seas.
My beard covers up the sky.
Thunder and lightning, fogs and rains.
My boots are licked by minister and leaders.
In my left hand a Snicker, in my right hand a Mars.
My PR manager: Karl Marx.
Capital, capital!
Capital, capital!
In my left hand a Snicker, in my right hand a Mars.
My PR manager: Karl Marx.
My face is Madonna, all filled with rotten pears.
All on your knees! Orcestera: Flourish!
CAPITAL!
Capital, capital!
Capital, capital!
Capital, capital!
Capital!
Diamons for dessert, crude oil for cream.
My name is Beelzebub, Master of the stratoshere.
I am unbelievably cool, respected beyond measure.
In my left hand a Snicker, in my right hand a Mars.
My PR manager: Karl Marx.
In my left hand a Snicker, in my right hand a Mars.
My PR manager: Karl Marx.
Capital, capital!
Capital, capital!
I devour cities, wash them down with seas.
My beard covers up the sky.
Thunder and lightning, fogs and rains.
My boots are licked by minister and leaders.
In my left hand a Snicker, in my right hand a Mars.
My PR manager: Karl Marx.
Capital, capital!
Capital, capital!
In my left hand a Snicker, in my right hand a Mars.
My PR manager: Karl Marx.
My face is Madonna, all filled with rotten pears.
All on your knees! Orcestera: Flourish!
CAPITAL!
CAPITAL!
Capital, capital!
Capital, capital!
Capital, capital!
Capital!
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