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Vision Of Disorder lyrics
Vision Of Disorder lyrics
"Living To Die Lyrics"
Rats In The Hallway Lyrics
Knock, knock come in if you want to fight I'm gonna win I'll take you out in a minute Step in my flat see what's in it I live in the land o
Knock, knock come in if you want to fight I'm gonna win I'll take you out in a minute Step in my flat see what's in it I live in the land o
You best beware of the street light.
You better lock up the door.
I'm hated, i'm rated, I know i've been wasted.
Misguided, cold hearted,
I know i'm the liar.
Chorus:
What's the sense there's only sorrow.
Sew up my eyes.
What's the chance of no tomorrow.
When you're
Nazi Punks Fuck Off Lyrics
Punk ain't no religious cult Punk means thinking for yourself You ain't hardcore cos you spike your hair When a jock still lives inside your head <
living to die. Punk ain't no religious cult Punk means thinking for yourself You ain't hardcore cos you spike your hair When a jock still lives inside your head <
I've been walking a fine line.
I've been turning to stone.
Ill fated, B rated,
I know i'm all jaded.
Been tired, got wired.
Now i'm uninspired.
Chorus:
What's the sense there's only sorrow.
Sew up my eyes.
What's the chance of no tomorrow.
Swing Low Sweet Chariot Lyrics
[ Jan ] I looked over Jordan and what did I see [ Bill ] Comin' for to carry me home A band of angels comin'
I've been up top, i've been knocked down.
A bitter happiness before you hit the ground.
It's just a matter of time before you lose your mind.
Just a little kiss before I leave you blind.
Your nervousness eats you up inside.
Now you know how it feels to be alive.
Growin A Little Each Day Lyrics
Tom johnston Well, music, sweet music Lord, is gonna be played, mm-hmm And the sound of billy's banjo Is like honey on your day Whe
Tom johnston Well, music, sweet music Lord, is gonna be played, mm-hmm And the sound of billy's banjo Is like honey on your day Whe
Revolution is your question
Couch burning mother-fucker
Chorus:
What's the sense there's only sorrow.
Sew up my eyes.
What's the chance of no tomorrow.
When you're living to die.
The scene of death is the decay of time.
Shortness of breath bring on the flatline