to fight the symptoms But you don't fight The disease In some sense, you've done something But it is your conscience That you please Progress, greed, their war machines
Превод: Самоубиство Машине. Корак.
try to fight the symptoms but you don't fight the disease in some sense, you've done something but it is you conscience that you please progress, greed, their war machines
the taste All my days with my wheelchair ways Watch me die in my suicide high I don't mean it 'cause I only come on to you When I step to the room with
bomb on me today Can anybody help me please throw me a line Because I'm fading fast I feel my life wasting away And if I stay I might end up like you one
the brain Take you 'round the bend, really drive you insane! [Tomas:] Death on wheels, speeding bastard!! [Jonas:] Mystery machine going faster and faster!! [Tomas:] Carry on screaming, suicide
off the fat of kings. I play the scab at your hunger strike. Slow down Gandhi, you're killin'em. One love, one life, one too many victims. Republicrat, Democran, one
slap in the face I love the taste All my days with my wheelchair ways Watch me die in my suicide high I don't mean to cause a holy commotion When I step
Living off the fat of kings I play the scab at your hunger strike Slow down Gandhi, you're killin'em One love, one life, one too many victims Republicrat, Democran, one
ll play the scab at your hunger strike. Slow down Gandhi, you're killin'em. One love, one life, one too many victims. Republicrat, Democran, one
A slap in the face I love the taste All my days with my wheelchair ways Watch me die in my suicide high I don't mean to cause a holy commotion When I step
off the brain Take you 'round the bend, really drive you insane! [Tomas:] Death on wheels, speeding bastard!! [Jonas:] Mystery machine going faster and faster!! [Tomas:] Carry on screaming, suicide
assault - I engage the assault On the command, with rise of my hand an army of one pound you into nothing The enemy holds only one right The right to
'all that they put in front of me See they harden till I step up, then they run from me Cause Myke Miers is much more than a man Part machine with a mic
