We’re goin' down the road
|
Towards tiny cities made of ashes
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I’m gonna hit you on the face
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I’m gonna punch you in your glasses, oh no
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I just got a message that said
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«Yeah, Hell has frozen over»
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I got a phone call from the Lord sayin'
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«Hey boy, get a sweater, right now»
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So we’re drinkin', drinkin', drinkin', drinkin'
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Coca, Coca Cola
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I can feel it rollin' right on down
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Oh, right on down my throat
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And as we’re headed down the road
|
Towards tiny cities made of ashes
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I’m gonna get dressed up in plastic
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Gonna shake hands with the masses
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Oh no!
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Does anybody know a way that a body could get away?
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Does anybody know a way?
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Does anybody know a way that a body could get away?
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Does anybody know a way?
|
We’re goin' down the road
|
Towards tiny cities made of ashes
|
I’m goin' to hit you on the face
|
I’m goin' to punch you in your glasses
|
I’m wearin' myself a T-shirt
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That says «The world is my ashtray»
|
Our hearts pump dust
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And our hair’s all gray
|
And I just got a message that says
|
«Yeah, hell has frozen over»
|
I got a phone call from the Lord sayin'
|
«Hey boy, get a sweater, right now!»
|
Does anybody know a way that a body could get away?
|
Does anybody know a way?
|
Does anybody know a way?
|
We’re drinkin', drinkin', drinkin', drinkin'
|
Coca, coca cola
|
I can feel it rollin' right on down
|
Oh, right on down my throat
|
And as we’re headed down the road
|
Towards tiny cities made of ashes
|
I’m gonna lay down in the spa
|
Where they coat you in molasses, right now!
|
Does anybody know a way that a body could get away?
|
Does anybody know a way?
|
Does anybody know a way that a body could get away?
|
Does anybody know a way? |