1. |
Rattlesnake
03:15
|
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|
Rattlesnake,
I’m out of breath.
Rattlesnake,
A brain earthquake.
Rattle, rattle.
Join the battle.
Watch your next step,
When you’re looking at a sunset.
Rattle, sound of a rattle,
Long johns from Seattle.
You can rattle off my disadvantages,
Especially my brain damage.
Rattlesnake,
I’m out of breath.
Rattlesnake,
A brain earthquake.
Rattle, rattle,
A girl’s chatter.
You’re in a lost position,
You have to abort the mission.
Rattle, rattle,
My brain in a bottle.
Booze in the my head
Probably I’m dead.
Rattlesnake,
I’m out of breath.
Rattlesnake,
A brain earthquake.
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2. |
Deadlock
04:13
|
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|
Last night I was on a terrible trip,
You were waiting for me.
I swam and drowned in booze,
I lose your confidence, and lose...
You don’t want to talk, but you’ve got many words,
You don’t open your mouth, but the message flows.
You sleep again in another room,
Bury again your dark thoughts and again exhume.
You’ll punish me for my crimes,
I’ll counterattack like I have many times.
You don’t want to talk, but you’ve got many words,
You don’t open your mouth, but the message flows.
Our Revenge is a two-edged sword,
We play our drawbacks on a chessboard.
There are no winners in this game,
We won’t be in the hall of fame.
You don’t want to talk, but you’ve got many words,
You don’t open your mouth, but the message flows.
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3. |
Hardcore Food Porn
03:54
|
|||
|
I'd like to show you,
And you'd like to watch,
That I drink château.
What I’ll have after supper.
Look! Tasty!
Look! I’m fussy!
Look! Delicious!
Look! My precious!
A naked herring’s swimming,
Near a chicken breast.
Delicious sauce has been cumming,
From a big red bottle.
Look! Tasty!
Look! I’m fussy!
Look! Delicious!
Look! My precious!
A wet oyster’s on your plate,
Giving signs to you.
And you’re licking her,
And you’re tasting her.
Look! Tasty!
Look! I’m fussy!
Look! Delicious!
Look! My precious!
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4. |
I'm On The Top
02:54
|
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5. |
Ghost
03:19
|
|||
|
I’m looking after a bad ghost,
He looks like me and drinks a lot.
He lost his driving licence last month,
And we have to listen to bus sounds.
His red face isn’t long,
When always I go wrong.
I’ve bought a vodka lite,
We’ll be drinking all night.
My family hate him,
He’s my phantom limb.
My friends hate him,
He’s my phantom limb.
He doesn’t care what you say,
Could lay down all workday.
He doesn’t need green tea,
He's just like me.
He brings me some odd ideas,
Like carpet-wired old sock tortillas.
He hates sober Friday nites,
They are opposite to his human rights.
His red face isn’t long...
It wasn’t my fault what he did,
After night my brain was like a squid.
I don’t take responsibility for his mistakes,
After a spice he hasn’t got brakes.
His red face isn’t long…
The ghost is my brain’s flatmate,
and takes me on blind dates with fate.
We love sweets, booze, and licking stamps,
He’s my jinn form a magic lamp.
His red face isn’t long...
|
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6. |
Włosie Wykładziny
04:06
|
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|
Ciepła wykładzina,
Przykleja się do skóry.
Twarz sinieje,
Zwrócona do góry.
Włosie wykładziny,
Jest ostatnią pieszczotą.
Włosie wykładziny,
Jest ostatnią pieszczotą.
Tykanie zegara,
Wydłuża się i ginie.
Tak jak oddech,
Nie osiada na szybie.
Włosie wykładziny,
Jest ostatnią pieszczotą.
Włosie wykładziny,
Jest ostatnią pieszczotą.
Dłonie już kurczowo,
nie chwytają powietrza.
Zwiędnięte leżą,
Wypełniają wnętrza.
Włosie wykładziny,
Jest ostatnią pieszczotą.
Włosie wykładziny,
Jest ostatnią pieszczotą.
Mętna łza,
Po policzku spływa.
Zgrzyt rozporka,
Ciszę przerywa.
W otwartych oczach,
Odbija się postać.
Co kochała za mocno,
Zdaje się płakać.
Włosie wykładziny,
Jest ostatnią pieszczotą.
Włosie wykładziny,
Jest ostatnią pieszczotą.
Włosie wykładziny,
Jest ostatnią pieszczotą.
Włosie wykładziny,
Jest ostatnią pieszczotą.
|
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