Black sheep, black sheep in the forest, hiding away with shame, no money left to spend from the robbery.
Piling up your shit in a pyramid, planning your way to fame, getting yourself an artist's name: An exhibition of the shit I did when I was in the hiding.
Why did you steal my precious things from my dressoir, the cutlery and the old refrigerator.
(repeat verse 1)
Nobody there to explain how you're sorry, you fucking fuck...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
