[Verse 1] Parachute ratty, one bunk cord now the air is scooped badly Dripping out the sticks like a twig-tweed hammock Miter cut the cables for that quick, clean transit Miser took the big screen; Panic made a business card Ankle out of whack, painkiller tobacco scrap We navigate the yellow corn hype for the barn When the spotlight swiveled hard right over the farm Post up, 3 cheers for the gimp Spread thank you (3 on the right) Limp to the door, splint what he mangles (3 on the left) Yea I knew the percentages But the numbers were unaware of the grand finale's emphasis And over the scent of a thousand dead dogs Agent ?Zip-Zooka? swore to pull it off, GAMEFACE Walkie-talkies squawking up his hip regarding paratroopers: 20 (Ha!) Tug ??a noise/annoys?? box-trigger reporting for hunting
[Chorus] I have landed safely I have not recieved my papers I have zero natural enemies I don't know my location I have no training in reconnaissance, combat or colluding I'm calling for my orders, over (STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING!)
[Verse 2] ??? up in a killer horse, numb and bloodthirsty 'Till the uncle spitter beg the pig to hug mercy (Ha!) 240-below shit, kickers tickle the corpses (duck!) Duck the widow-maker, also manufactures swords (ok...) Manufactured ordinance, if it moves stick a fork in it Winners take all, killers rape all coordinates Unfortunately, courted by the most tenacious gaurdian Whose aimless nature bait a holler ???? taste the martyr's skin No semper-fi (Nope), no saluter units Soldier the fire is more flesh than sulfer And when the automatic-jitters wiggle the ribs I feel so alive it don't matter which bitch's litter is clipped (Bang!) Sun down, goggle up; canteen gobble-juice Teargas nozzle up, brain buff hostile youth Chop it up, lock a noose upon it You will die for the glory of...Shit, I can't put my finger on it But it's big! Big and legitimate Justify women and kiddie killer shit, iller it builds So he is not a natural predator, but can dismantle an AK-47 Clean and rebuild before you can mayday brethren (Mayday!) Muddy-gut snake eyes, he approaches cobras with an ugly muck And bloody Bowie knife clamped in the canines Wake 'em with that blind military mechanism set to bludgeon WHAT IS YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION!?
[Chorus] I have landed safely I have not recieved my papers I have zero natural enemies I don't know my location I have no training in reconnaissance, combat or colluding I'm calling for my orders, over (STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING!) I was standing at attention with a pocket full of weapons And the will to walk a mile in the same fatigues that I slept in I have yet to find a way of life worthy of my saluting I'm calling for my orders, over (STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING!)
[Verse 3] I shimmy up out of the fox Hold the sword of the only after having logged every cadaver accordingly High scores keep automatons enthralled (There is no cause iller than no cause at all) Okay, if his perspective is smirked, sneaky detective work is aborted And it's no longer whisper-mode on the red alert No bed of dirt 'n' sniper rifle peeking out the bunker (uh!) Now I'm set in city looking for something to puncture [gunshot] Help me up, the numbers of the heroes sat at suppers Treat the public like a tin can, riddled before it plummets (Brrrap!) But, adrenaline can lead to lazy-eye hassles So he list the little boy into the ??pin-up pineapple?? (Heh) Thats funny...Bumps into the steel-toe Thats lovely, sum it up in (Oh, hell no!) And just as fast as the parachute cable snipped I was rag-doll, horizontal, two limbs short of fixed Link a baby pulled around the standard issued weaponry While fading as a blemish in civility's memory They will step over the body for the looting.. (Ready on the far end line) (The fuck is that?) STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING!
[Chorus] I have landed safely I have not recieved my papers I have zero natural enemies I don't know my location I have no training in reconnaissance, combat or colluding I'm calling for my orders, over (STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING!) I was standing at attention with a pocket full of weapons And the will to walk a mile in the same fatigues that I slept in I have yet to find a way of life worthy of my saluting I'm calling for my orders, over STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING! [SHOOTING!: Repeat till fade out]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
