I consume everything the world shoves in my face I drink, I eat, I live it And it is not my choice No more cracking voice, yeah
Unicorns and trolley cars Blinds checks and dollar cards Get your nuts out of your bank account The hunt is on (the hunt is on, the hunt is on, the hunt is on)
You shoot a grenade Out of your flames Like a plumber from a clogged drain Variety is the spice of death In a corrupted strain Like a fat man on a plane
Well there's no trust fund, kids Can't find the money kin On the lips of the stolen wind Stand in line like cows, I repeat
Stand in line like cows And snort like fucking sows Remember, boss, remember The world go 'round for the both of us The both of us
Well, it's a seventh-inning stretch, huh? Stand up, stretch it out Cut me like a bone saw It's an unwritten law
And the world still goes 'round For the both of us For the both of usTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
