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Urge Overkill




Альбом Urge Overkill


Strange, I... (1986)
1986
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. . .


Well I thought I had something to say
I was worried about it anyway
I kept thinking it was all screwed up
How people keep a-wrappin shit up
Had a friend and he blew himself up
Cause all these people just wouldn't shut up
I don't wanna face
What's gonna happen here next
I just want outta here
I just don't even care
Cause I got it all worked out
Wouldn't you like that?

. . .


It's the girl that learned to walk
She's learned to use both of her legs, but she don't talk
Cause since she learned to walk
And with her pigtails gone
Her little legs quake in the dark
As Daddy pulls them far apart
And since she's learned to talk
She drives a smart car to her job, but she don't walk
Cause when she tried to walk
To her crib right down the block
She was alone though that she thought
The stranger's pumping wouldn't stop
Behold the art of man
It's good to look at all the art, but look at man
There's no palate in his hand
There's no chisel in his hand
He's got his sick dick in his hand
It's throwing up the seed of man
But it's his art, the art of man
I will walk away from the big century
In the art of man

. . .


Without names without homes
A crowd of people walks alone
My new church the walls are bare
I'm alone too, but I live there
And I need no comfort there
I need not come up for air
Take my name but leave my chair
Why ask me why when I warned you where
In my church, there are many things to do (x4)
Harum Scarum, chicken shack
Bible bunk bed lyin' on its back
You think in words and all your thoughts are said
But your mouth is not your head
Some are blindfolded and led
Some are maimed by time wasted
Take my rap but leave my bed
My congregation believes you dead

. . .


She's a regular guy that girl's got speed
For my 4-wheel need for free
But I drove it wild, did I drive her wild
Thought I heard she smiled
She's a regular guy that girl's a stray
Asian in Norway, Tané
But I drove it wild, did I paint her wild
Did I say she smiled
The bell tolls and I go
Over to her window
Tame Tane has tainted Jane, I know
Where have we been
Heads are rolling again
And so are the wheels
Of my ugly snakemobile

. . .


There's a war, there's a clash of sorts
Dead ahead
It's foreign but it's real
Knock, knock, knock
There it sits taxing every move
Your world son
So either get your gun or clean theirs
With the neck of your ego on the chopping block
Sugar memories bring you back to a time when
Your loudest care was a high chair
Not a number or a name for you to make
This is it ‘cause luck moved out last week
No more camp
So shine your saber well
Before you kill a panzer tank with it
Like you told everyone you would
Good bye
Bend and spread or be dead with no history
So live for the luxuries
Cause you can't be a person with your head iced off.

. . .


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