Paroles de la chanson Mugged By The Mob par Augie March
Auteurs: Francesca Richards
Editeurs: Sony Atv Music Publishing France,Sony Atv Music Publishing (Australia) Pty Limited
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Paroles de la chanson Mugged By The Mob par Augie March
Strange paradise that you're living in
Strangers talk to you in hissing tongues, fictioning
I've gone inside some, you don't see me none
I don't speak with the fear you secretly like to hear
You get stuck out past the toll chains
And your heart begins its boiling in the cavern
Of your missing shame
You hear those flapping buds?
You got your values plucked
Know it's the end of conviction
You see them walk the streets in packs
Like so many chimpanzees
Those mental amputees
No culture only liberties
Strangers talk to you in hissing tongues, fictioning
I've gone inside some, you don't see me none
I don't speak with the fear you secretly like to hear
You get stuck out past the toll chains
And your heart begins its boiling in the cavern
Of your missing shame
You hear those flapping buds?
You got your values plucked
Know it's the end of conviction
You see them walk the streets in packs
Like so many chimpanzees
Those mental amputees
No culture only liberties
If I could wipe them out
Like never born nor seen
But it's always been this way
But I think you know what I mean
I'm willing to go now
I'm ready to feel no pain
Just a sharp red rip
Then the lights go out on my trip
One more death in the prison
Hear the crows speak
Know the crow's tongue
Crows don't eat their own meat
They don't brook no carry on
So they can speak their bit the mob
But I can't cop that kind of gob
Babble and spit the evening long
Make a right out of being always wrong
I'm willing to go now
Like never born nor seen
But it's always been this way
But I think you know what I mean
I'm willing to go now
I'm ready to feel no pain
Just a sharp red rip
Then the lights go out on my trip
One more death in the prison
Hear the crows speak
Know the crow's tongue
Crows don't eat their own meat
They don't brook no carry on
So they can speak their bit the mob
But I can't cop that kind of gob
Babble and spit the evening long
Make a right out of being always wrong
I'm willing to go now
I'm ready to feel no pain
Just a short, sharp rip
Then the lights go out on my trip
One more death in the prison
O for the mobility get what the mobility seek
Though not one of it knows what it means
You paint it a picture its eyes roll back
You sing it a song it screams
O the demise of diction
Know it's the end of conviction
Just another death in the prison
Just a short, sharp rip
Then the lights go out on my trip
One more death in the prison
O for the mobility get what the mobility seek
Though not one of it knows what it means
You paint it a picture its eyes roll back
You sing it a song it screams
O the demise of diction
Know it's the end of conviction
Just another death in the prison
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