I know you, your poster Hangs over my bed I lose weight and I can’t Get you outta my head
Yeah, I'm striving for your stare Sunglasses, please, don't match your hair So pull them off and throw back your bang A metalhead is gonna hit the chart
Could I suppose your fashion style Will laugh at me at the final point? How could I light your cigarette If I knew you were scoring goals?
Oh, I'm sure God damns the studs The uppish ones will burn in hell The others should be sapped by brats Sweep the rest and you'll make a brand
Your posh car and finery Are your edges of death So let me melt in you My rock-bottomed fate
My gothic shit will not override The mainstream music plugged in your ears Your collection is your sweet desire And I deserve just a can of beerTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.