Strange raves on a Detroit bridge I was reaching for the rhythm but it's out of reach
She was talking to the Buick She was cutting the tequila with bleach And she said to me
There's no such thing as an Egyptian cowboy Your pretty haircut can't help you now, boy There's nothing we can do for you unless you're willing to kill Hey, come on and kill.
I think this city could have used a woman's touch As I'm wading through the toxic waste and such Cuz everybody here said I won't amount to much Everybody here said I won't amount to much When I go from point A to point B I want thrills and chills and blood to spill
But there's never any people on the people mover - Public transit equivalent of Herbert Hoover
You're never gonna get anywhere because you're standing still standing still!
These songs don't write themselves I've got a music workshop run by elves Making dozens of records by the twelves
Stocking our product on Ikea shelves
Let me state
My state of mind, mind, mind is just fine.
Baby, that's the sound of the years going by You can find me on the same bar stool just waiting to die. Three cheers to me, here's mud in your eye. I said, "Cheers to me, here's mud in your eye"
She came to close out my tab, so I was troubled and she took a stab and she said to me
There's no such thing as an electric tuba The Detroit River's not a good place to scuba The only reason you're here today is cuz we need you to kill
Yeah, kill!
My songs are tasty pies, fresh oven-baked and filled with lies Gobbled up by the dozen by Neanderthal guys Inhaling the aroma of Canadian lies
Oh my, why you got quite a lot of problems, don't you?
Shake that tambourine! Shake that shaker machine! Shake it, low. Shake it, high. Shake it. Shake it.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
