Woorden:
The Suicide Machines Little Home

thats me i've got a nice mowed lawn and a family i make a little money, got a dog with a bone cause i have a little mind and a nice little home the

Vertaling: The Suicide Machines. Little Home.

and Indian women, creating Latinos Mother fuckers made me out of self richeous hatred And you got yourself a virus, stuck in the Matrix A suicide bomber

the little leakage in the shell around my greed In case Tommy Turbulence located the matrix then impedes(ooh) whistle b in dirge bout the boogie burst classic helen fell in haunted machines

them die Make them die In this land there's no return Everybody licensed to thrill A killer alien selling point Invasion can be fun Martian war death machine

and Indian women, creating Latinos Mother fuckers made me out of self richeous hatered And you got yourself a virus, stuck in the Matrix A suicide bomer

and Indian women, creating Latinos Mother fuckers made me out of self richeous hatered And you got yourself a virus, stuck in the Matrix A suicide bomer

drawn Broadcast voices from the ward The humming of machines hurt But there are distances between Yes there are distances between His aspirations visited him nightly And amounted to so little

There was no left left around him To give back the things he'd spent All those hours in that cramped little van Hoping for the gears of that machine