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和/或在社交方面支持我。网络:
Hit Of The Search Party
(专辑: Hot Damn! - 2003)
No man abandon his post. A
gatecrasher has called us to arms. Take up your torch. I
want this ship cleaner than a
hospital ward. A
radical has polluted our ranks. Slouch into position men, this is a
war. Set the
traps. We'll have that criminal's head marched through the
streets on a
stick. Someone will pay for this. We'll squeeze his goddamn brains out. Sleep with one knife open. You can't out think us, we've been out of thoughts for a
while. The
warrior with the
deadliest weapon is the
one without an instruction manual for his gun. This is a
union of dunces and we are the
new global menace. Stalking the
land, gnashing dull teeth, tapping our feet, sighing and humming and watching the
clock. That's what you get for fucking with us. When we find you we will skin you alive, we'll pluck out your eyes And the
cannons will roar as we march to the
capitol, dragging your hide. Drooling polished jackboot monsters, tracking the
scent of a
sleeping child. Your composure gave you away, next time it's best to cry havoc. Keep marching, the
bridge is ours. They're coming to get me. They're coming to take me away. I'll never make love in this town again. Everyone on the
dance floor is doomed. Hit the
ground. Shut your mouth. The
prisoners have laid waste to the
pulpit. You're in for it now. Are these helicopters for me? Have I
been appointed to speak? Then I'm going to Hell, and I'm taking the
renaissance with me.
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