You don't care about people's thoughts. You probe into the mind, then you haunt What you print, people believe, complicating lives, what the fuck does that achieve?
Now you're looking for some news, changing around facts and views Receiving money for empty lies. Sly reporters I despise you
Will there be that extra in this week? Now you're climbing to the journalist peak Sitting at the typewriter making more lies up. Rearranged to suit you, then fuck me up
Now I'm getting sick of you. Coming around here, making news Whatever you print, you can't lose. But can't you see the damage that you do?Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
