I eat cigarettes for breakfast, and coffee for lunch. For dinner I lay in the dirt and wait for the end times to come. I wish I could tell you the truth, but when I do it comes out sounding stupid. But meet me at four in the morning, and see for yourself. Sunrise, sunset, that's all I really gotta know. The rest is a prison that I build for myself. On my worst nights, I'd still burn down the city just for a peaceful night's rest. But here in your arms, my darling, I think that can wait, or I hope it can. We murdered a chicken for breakfast, and ate it for lunch. She was beautiful, she was scrappy, she was mean as they come. And I told her on the way to the chopping block: "Chaos reigns over us all. One day I'll be worm food, but Jenny, first it's your turn." There's sunrise, and sunset, and then there's the day that I die. All the rest is a prison, or else it's a lie. At my worst times, I'd still murder a traffic cop to get out of a ticket. But here in your arms, my darling, police don't exist, or I hope they don't.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
