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Текст песни John Cale - Guts

John Cale - Guts слова песни




The bugger in the short sleeves fucked my wifeDid it quick and splitBack home, fresh as a daisy to maisy, oh maisyAnd the twelve-bore it stood in the cornerQuite operatic in its self disgustIt blew him all over the living room floorLike parrot shit, parrot spit, parrot shit was shotNow suppose it was someone familiarSomeone we all would knowEmbarrasing denouement, ne cest pas? Familiar hyperboleAnd there would go the secret plotThe piss had missed the hole in the potLike that ancient teenage dreamFrom soul to poison soul to poison soulGuts, guts, got no gutsAnd stitches dont help at allGuts, guts, got no gutsHoles in the body, holes in the legsHoles in the forehead, holes in the headHoles in the body, holes in the legsThere should never be holes at allThere should never be holes at allSo: kill all you want or moreMake sure, do it rightDead is dead, and door nails forgetAnd then youll noticeHow the waster and the wastedGet to look like one anotherIn the end, in the endIn the end, in the endIn the end, in the endIn the end, in the end

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