Well, I've got more money than you've got brains
I'm fucking
It's Peter Pedophile, now he's on the loose
He got three
I don't like you, never will do
Sit in my bedroom,
You walk around with nothing in your head
Like a stretcher
Everywhere that you go
Everybody that you know
Everything that you
Marching through the mud, dying in the blood
Where's the honor
Here I go on the political front
Do my words offend
Chicks with guitars, loud guitars
In dingy bars, short skirts
High
I don't believe in the church
I don't believe in the
I don't care about you
The things you say
And the things
No strings attached, no wedding rings
No semi detached, no kids
Go out at night for a drink
Fucking hooligan is what
Waiting for a bus and it's starting to rain
Well,
New life, tired of this way of living
New life, too
When I called, I fucking knew 6000 miles
What could
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