Overkill - F.U.C.T
Tekst :
(First Underground Commission on Termination)
We got the killing
You got the time
We got the making of a terminal blind
We got the risk
You got to take
We got the making of a big mistake
Got no faith
Got no reason
Got no hope
Got the treason
We got the hit
already took
Hate to tell you
But I think you re fuct
All about face
All about life
All about walking the edge of the knife
All about race
All about death
All about getting out of this mess
We got the truth
You got the hurt
We got the answer that you just insert
We are explicit
You are expossed
We are the making of the decomposed
Got no faith
Got no reason
Got no hope
Got the treason
Got the kaos
Runamuk
Bite down hard
You re about to be fuct
All about face
All about life
All about walking the edge of the knife
All about race
All about death
All about getting out of this mess
We are the day
We are the night
We are the stop sign in the road of life
We are the message
Unreturned
We are the next about to be burned
Got no faith
Got no reason
Got no hope
Got the treason
Change your mind
Change your look
Change your heart
Now you re fuct
All about face
All about life
All about walking the edge of the knife
All about race
All about death
All about getting out of this mess
All about face
Inne utwory
Head on Never say never New machine Shred Hole in the sky It lives Who tends the fire The years of decay Head first Feel the fire Hellish pride Stone cold Jesus Use your head 80 Cycles World of hurt Nice day for a funeral I, hurricane Left hand man Under one Losowe utwory
The priesthood is trembling
the five knights of light has betrayed mankind
Now known as the dark ones
we strike down on earth with powers from hell
We ride on the wind we ride through the sky
like unholy birds of war we fly
we bring agony and insanity
Once blessed by the light now serving the...
You changed the locks but you can t keep us out
Your looks and glances are but useless now
You know you act a fool
And we know exactly who you are
Don t cover up now
It will all come back to you
And knock you right off your feet
You talk a good game
You spin...
Nie skarżę się
Myślę że akceptuję
To drżenie rąk
I serca kołatanie
Tak wiele jest uroku
W hiperwentylacji..
Uwielbiam
Gdy cucisz mnie policzkiem
Ubustwiam wprost
Spotukać się w szczerym polu
Z agorafobią
Co kilka dni umawiam się
W windzie z klaustrofobią
Weszły mi w krew pogaduszki
Z nozofobią
O piątej rano, minut pięć i pół
Zmarł szeptem Jan w pościeli swej
Potężne ciało, od stóp do głów
Wypełniał szczelnie - opasły duch
Z trudem więc przeciskał się
Przez czarny tunel, do boskich wrót
Tunel bowiem w rozmiarze L
o X za mały dla Jana był
Więc nie myśl że wieczność
Jest balem czy ucztą
Pobytem w kurorcie, wesoły...
He s the wolf screaming lonely in the night
He s the blood-stain the stage
He s the tear in your eye
Been tempted by his lie
He s the knife in your back
He s rage
He s the razor to the knife...