Мимо дрожащих, истерзанных рук. Что пялишься, дура, я ведь не голый! Я не к тебе, я не бабник, не вор! Я - террорист! Я - Иван Помидоров! Хватит трепаться
Heavy metal Cinderella Sudden death, now the thrill is gone Oh yeah Nice shot, you're a killer So what? Some like it hot, be the urban guerrilla Somewhere
Could you be a rebel in your work clothes? Do you need a slogan to define what's on your mind? Could you chose your fights, could you bide your time?
The violent pursuit of what they hope to be... a better world Rejection of society and the desire... to destroy it. As we look back, so many attacks.
Suicide dive bombers it's a false colored world one of kings and misfits bombs and renagades babe now where do you fit in? paint the colors in love recollect
Musical revolution spreading through the land Big city White boys, ready to make a stand Angry, tattooed, and scarred, We're really a nasty bunch Stand
From Iran and Iraq To the shores of the Black Sea Soon will be just a giant parking lot ?'cause that?s where a big park is gonna be We?re getting? rid
Khaki trousers, army boots Clothes worn by today's youth An unseen war without the crime Population growing all the time Fighting against their
soldiers of deception dark seeds among our race, an absence of free will, is all we ever face, overcome by chemicals of lust inside the brain we don't
Suicide terrorist Bringing worldwide death Random killing Cruelty obsessed Tool for those who know no compromise Dictating, demanding lives Leaders breathing
Drugs come out of boredom, babe U.N. exports it everyday Their armies feed the ghetto lame Government approve it just the same Daylight bores the sunshine
Get some pain and I feel alive (Born to end) Close my eyes overdose on hell (Born to end) Get run over by no direction (Born to end) Breathing dead and
Always feeling torn and slow Love song cull destroy poem Misery and trauma making love Best go shoot the fucking doves The past is so beautiful The future
This is Damn Dog By the Manic Street Preachers Take one, two, three, four I can lick your face I can bite it too Ooh, my teeth's got rabies I'm gonna
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore) No one likes looking at you Your lack of ego offends male mentality They need
Between the billboard masturbation Across highways of metallic isolation There lies the deafenin' screamin' Of the millions wipin' out the diseased pages
(Words: Nicky Wire/Richey James; Music: James Dean Bradfield/Sean Moore) Economic forecast soothe our dereliction Words of euthanasia, apathy of sick
I've seen this happen before This is a message from occupied England British adults expect a nuclear war in our lifetime From earliest human existence
