Beggars can be choosers underneath that crooked line where all that is disposable can decompose, and lie there for a week, a month , a year. The low-down scavengers don’t care, they’ll fight for crumbs and leave us here to catch the mood and feed your fear.
I chased so many ambulances,rode a few red lights, I witnessed life’s cruel consequences right before my eyes. I crawled through corridors of carnage for the perfect spot. Swerved this way, that way, then the other, as the sniper shot me through my spinning wheels. I greased the palms of psychopaths, dictators, casual maniacs Met Hitler in a sleazy bar, I slapped him on the back …whispered “Thank you….”
And yes I sold the sequel. In my book we’re all created equal, we can sink or soar like eagles. Me? l ‘ll keep it legal as I’m zooming in.
Who are you to sit there on your throne and say I have no depth? Who are you to hide behind that stone and keep me at arm’s length? You, who would not test the water. You….who will not taste the wine. You, who craves death twice resampled, aired at half past nine If it’s getting all too heavy swap me for a snack.You may change the channel but still you’re just a rat …on a spinning wheel. Rats trapped on a spinning wheel. We shall keep revolving … We’ll spin until that setting sun’s been snatched with cameras rolling. Roll on.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
