Oh no there's something wrong with little Billie John Nowadays I can't seem to ding-a-long-ling-long my ding-a-long-ling-long What's going on ? [Chorus
it's several months now since we mentioned love a play in a down-beat groove that we can't get out of don't know if we're hunters or collectors, you and
I used to be the worrying kinda guy Never know what to do with my life What do I really want to be ? And would I get a silly pretty little wife ? But
What's a sweatheart like you doin' in crummy dumps like those ? Why do you do the things you do ? sp-sp-sp spasm, baby ravin' comatose Why do you do the
I look around So many girls, so little time but time's the last thing on my mind and I see that the sun still shines I hear the sound of punk in your
Now the summer has come and it's time to catch the sun let's go down to the beach for some supersurfin' fun Semi-saltstained hooters as far as I can see
Steel is rain is coming and the lights are all shut out on the minigolf course and I've yet to wipe the wine off my floors The hammack's racking in 3/
It's time again for another fashion trend, now it's time to be alone again I might be unreasonable, but why's style seasonal? I'd rather stick to my own
This night came fast Thought it never would Thought you'de be the last I could cling to when things got hard In true or false need Tonight I have a fire
It's coming down from above the clouds Bared fangs and howling aloud It's a carnivore a?? kill the lights The dragon bites Yeah, finally unleashed The
You begin to wear me out, I feel like crossbones to you skull Your stupidity blinds me, your so-called brilliance is so dull You're living life by proxy
i've clipped the fins right off my goldfish new he'll be better off at the bottom of the bowl down in this hole as earthbound as the bird inside your
Opposition Tradition Never trust a politician It's been sung a million times before And here's one more Modern democracy is a smoking screen Mass dictatorship
Youth went by on our backs, morals intact, we were never ganna crack Spread-eagled, but never once looking back When we were young we were chasing the
This is a story about a man A short story about the violence in his hand On automatic trigger He ain't used to taking shit So no one's giving it And his
you make me feel unreal you're hallucinatory i'm insatiable you make me nauseous and hot you're inflammatory i'm inflammable i don't want another love
my balls they itch, and i'm too fat to scratch aw man, ain't life a bitch, with a fat moustache tickles my scrotum, but it won't make me cum no, it won
Yesterday, Nostradamus gave me a call To remind me of the writings on the wall I know we live in troubled times, he said he'd read the signs long ago