Letra de Bad Worn Thing
Jam sandwich filled with Uzied peelers Frisking pimps and dawn car dealers The Fat Controller's transport inches When stealing lives, he never flinchesObserve the poker party aces In champagne bars, unlikely spaces Unnerving, swerving shifty places Where little works or convincesFollow me! No explanation The future sold, the Chancellor paces The growing pains, associated With a past which no-one facesThey clip their speech They clip your wings The absent tribe Of missing links The absolute Of vodka kings The over crowded Nature of thingsIt's a bad worn thing!