Текстове на песни:
Swingin Utters Dead Flowers Bottles Bluegrass And Bones

again It will be up on the hill with tequilla on Tuesday and roaches to kill We'll be crying and drunk or laughing and stones For Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass and bones

again It will be up on the hill with tequilla on Tuesday and roaches to kill We'll be crying and drunk or laughing and stones For Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass and bones

think I'm dead Gonna eat their brain with a piece of bread Elation Elation Elation I'm just a walking abortion Walking down the street, people think I'm dead

quit your bitching and confess the time of your life just came and went you're gonna drown in shallowness in the empty sea of frat boys and dunces You

in the light of the moon from the sky And I sit here alone and drinking with the windows and doors open wide My hand got tired an hour ago and the words

they said He hoards the beer and wine and bread Christ, I wish he were fucking dead Bury yourself in blame Drown yourself in flame Burn the bottle that

i'm not the quiting kind and i'm a cynic and a clod and i don't see the good in all your gods i won't open up at all today sing songs so happy and full

they say, And they don't know what you want You learn to fight to bark and bite Test all the limits of little Minsthat you despise Here it says That my time has come and

Time has given me everything I need Lust, pride, gluttony, and relief Tomorrow weighs down like Clouds hung in the sky But right now I'm feeling like