she’s upset because they keep changing the taste of coke(they did it again)
Tell my mother I’m going home, I have been destroyed by hippie powers
manični___stoicizam
So why see the world, when you got the beach?
Sometimes they were comedic— or relentlessly horrifying
They were the foes of society, whether fighting the local sheriff, or a secret agent
Frequently they mirrored our times: the gangster villains which rival real newspaper headlines of the present day
Collectively, they are the components which have fueled nightmares for decades to come
The villains
There’s no need to watch the bridges that we’re burning(it’s running again)
The bitterness is a lowest sin
A bitter man rots from within
I’ve seen his smile, yellow and brown
The bitterness has brought him down
My oh my, man just leave us alone
On occasion, we all do battle with motivational paralysis
Unable to perform some simple task
Trapped at the stage of analysis
Thoughts of the shortness of life may beget
Bouts of shortness of breath in your chest
Doubts about the worth of the nights you got left
Crowding out all the fear and regret
There’s still life to be lived in hell
A couple times last week
I tried hard to speak
A couple times a week
I might know how to speak
Everything seems to go wrong when I stop drinking
Everything seemed to go my way last night
Everything seems so wrong to me this morning
I know things will be brighter later tonight
Old man, look at my life, I’m a lot like you were…(pape sritan rođendan)
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
And cut him ’til he cried out
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains
A safe haven for committing a crime…
Revolution come and gone
Behind your eyes, cut out the tongue
Transcend their lies, they try to hold back the dawn of revolution come and gone!
Nema snova, samo lova otrovnija od olova…
Nema digniteta, nema poštenja
Očenaš i Zdravomarije su cijena oproštenja
I nema općeg dobra, samo vlastita torba i dupe
Kriminalci, a svi šute – papci
Suci, fratri, policajci
Jer su in rođaci u istoj stranci, ista banda
A mi smo stranci u vlastitoj zemlji zbog ljudskog šljama
A mi smo stranci u vlastitoj zemlji zbog ljudskog šljama
Lipa naša silovana!
No, it’s not getting better, man.. It’s just getting old
One more minute in this city’s going to give me a breakdown
One more night in this bar is going to give me the blues
An Altima with one headlight out
Slipping sliding spinning around
Joanie I’m going to take care of you
A hand to hope, a hope to hold to call forth the darkness from you!
I keep losing
Still keep hoping for that win
And you can’t change my mind
Not a slave if I’m already free
Not a captive if it’s where I wanna be
