Текст песни Fitzgerald Patrik - Punch
Fitzgerald Patrik - Punch слова песни
In a small,but perfect,playpen,they practise,badly,being grown-ups,no-one makes the right decisions,throwing childish tantrums;their mummy never gave them a dummy,busy in her perfect kitchen,daddy gave them building bricksand they built useless houses;grown as people of power now,parents disappear or die,they just poke tongues out,from inside barsat people who`d much prefer to pass them by......He`s a joke figure,taking himself serious,a gravedigger,pretending he`s mysterious,a harmless little creepwho keeps on telling you he`s great;some madman masquerading as a head of state,punch,(joke figure)punch..punch..punch..He`s been sitting there for years;i wonder who gave him his throne?perhaps the king of england,perhaps the king of rome,perhaps his friends or relatives,who won it in some war,perhaps his mother,to shut him up -she bought it in a store;punch,(joke figures)punch..punch..punch.(repeat 1st verse)I`ll make a mockery of you,i`d love to take your bones apart,i`d love to inspect your insides,and see if there`s blood in your heart,i`ll fuck you up,the way you fuck upeverybody,every day,who look at you,and think they have some guiding star,to shine their way,but politics is a stupid game,it hasen`t any rules,and `politics` is just a word,like `power`,like `tools` -politics is worthless,a complete waste of time,which never will quite qualifyfor the category of crime,punch..joke figures,punch..joke figures,punch..joke figures,punch joke figures.(repeat 2nd verse)Punch!