I can feel your goodbye comin' like a storm up from the South The rain'll splatter at the back door, the wind'll whistle 'round the house So it's you
Well, I ain't proud of what I'm about to do All alone up here with you With the picture of your man Face down upon the night stand so he can't see And
Well, it was 'bout five till five on a Friday We were all gettin' ready to go The boss man started screamin' His veins began to show He said you and
Runnin' from the rate race Just as fast as I can Take off my tie so I can breathe Me, I'm going where the fresh air's blowin' Take a little walk in the
And I heard the rumor that we're callin' it off And we won't last too long But I get the feelin' when I'm looking at you Baby, they couldn't be more wrong
Down the drain pipe 'cross the yard and through the fence I risked a whoopin' every time I went 'Cause white boys weren't allowed on the colored side
You know the cards are stacked against this As we surrender our defenses And I've torn down all my fences just for you And you feel it too What do we
Torsos hang from their own intestines Raped of all bodily extensions Stumps wreathing in a sludge like infection Suffering through a Rancid amputation
Torsos hang from their own intestines Raped of all bodily extentions, stumps wreathing in a sludge Like infection Suffering through a Rancid amputation
I saw a man get the beat down Took his money and his wallet left him dead on the ground I saw them gather celebrate the crime Teachin us the laughter
Alla al pie de la montana Donde temprano se oculta el sol Quedo mi ranchito triste Y abandonada ya mi labor Ahi me pase los anos Ahi encontre mi primer
call it the Cadillac Ranch They're parking cars in the old bean patch There?s a bar in the barn and the place stays packed Till the cows come home at Cadillac Ranch
Don't worry about me, I'm gonna make it alright Got my enemies crossed-haired in my sight I take a bad situation gonna make it right In the shadows of
California sun has sunk behind the Anaheim hills here comes the night I was high on junk And the warm winds of Santa Ana feel alright Well a crim it
We ride with kings on mighty steeds, across the devil's plain. We've walked with Jesus and his cross, he did not die in vain, no! We've run with wolves
She stares out the window Counts raindrops until tomorrow Today sees her crying While Sting sings about the breath you take She'll take fighting chances
Me quitas el sol Vicias el aire que respirar Quieres trepar Pisando a los demás Te sientes el rey Y eres sólo un bufón Eres el tuerto
all around things are looking pricier now though the crowd seems a little spicier now still holding ground all over town still some things can't be ironed