July
Sunday 22 June 2008 photo 8/59
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Now you who are so grand, who claim you built the fundaments on which I stand
You are the man, but you prefer the gentle fan I was before
But now it's time to be unkind, to speak my mind
And if you ask why I'm so blunt, it's 'cause I care for you, you cunt!
You're no longer wild at heart, you're just a boring junkie fart
And if you really wanna die, alright, then die then you old tart!
So I walked across the dancefloor until I was in his sight
And I opened up and this is what come out:
You sorry ass, you sorry ass
Oh! Death to the martyrs, come on, come on
You sorry ass, you sorry ass
Oh! Death to the martys, come on!
Now you who are so grand, who claim you built the fundaments on which I stand
You are the man, but you prefer the gentle fan I was before
But now it's time to be unkind, to speak my mind
And if you ask why I'm so blunt, it's 'cause I care for you, you cunt!
You're no longer wild at heart, you're just a boring junkie fart
And if you really wanna die, alright, then die then you old tart!
So I walked across the dancefloor until I was in his sight
And I opened up and this is what come out:
You sorry ass, you sorry ass
Oh! Death to the martyrs, come on, come on
You sorry ass, you sorry ass
Oh! Death to the martys, come on!
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