January 2008
Ingenting kan stoppa mig, ingenting kan hejda mig
Ingenting kan bromsa mig, jag lever för att bränna
Ingenting kan hota mig, ingenting kan hejda mig
Ingenting kan knäcka mig, jag le
Well my mama told me : son you better wacth out
All those nasty woman gonna rip you dime for dime
But i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode
And the story keep on rollin', out