From the eighties,
Comes a fucking metal storm,
And we are its children,
The thrash metal,
Lives on in our lives,
Playing music,
Drinking and smoking
Living on the road,
We are Motörheads,
The drugs are good,
The chicks are hot
Sure we lost some friends,
And we sold our souls,
Maybe we are doomed,
But we are alive
Get Thrashed...
Playing underground,
For 50 people,
A brutal crowd,
Blood upon the stage
Sure we have no home,
This is no exodus,
We're bonded by blood,
And we'll rust in peace
We are cursed,
We walk the earth,
Destroying everything,
As we scream
Thrash metal as a religion,
Speed as a god,
We don't believe in anything,
But sweat and screams
Living on the road,
We are Motörheads,
The drugs are good,
And the chicks are hot
Sure we lost some friends,
And we sold our souls,
Maybe we are doomed,
But we are alive
Get Thrashed...
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