Living the life of a hermit Born to be a bastard Sailing through the orbits Ripped to shreds and torn bits The odour from his armpits Cover you in vomit Calling Doctor Carpets Came out of the bar plastered Quick to get his arse kicked Eggs fell out of his basket Doctors getting alarmist You shouldnt have got him started His brain was retarded When his company parted Kept his secrets guarded Left him broken hearted Living the life of a hermit Born to be a bastard...
You know cos hes a Ghost – spektah – stranger – gadjo
Its the Gadjo, running through the streets as a stranger in a tangle, stop dark looks from the coppers cant Handle, pressure from the others and the brothers, just Mangles, and strangles Its the stray cat, running from the dogs in the alleys quiet Laid back, really quiet right and polite, but they Say that, he's never getting out from the trap, but he Prays that, he’s gonna make that, Feeling tipsy, drank 8 pints in the bar, Quiet Risky, stoned on his own with a bone and a whisky, Now he cant walk , when he talks its lispy, vision misty Now the barman's barring his road, got the car to go and hes ready to roll, got the pigs in toe, and he thinks he knows, no friends just foes, no highs just lows, go go gadjoTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
