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Sorry we´re open come in we´re closed i´m warming the raclette oven i said come in we´re closed it was great talking to you having nothing to say but now that that´s been said get the fuck away my guitar like a kalashnikov my bass-drum like a bazooka pick up youre artillery in the myth of defeat and if i´m gonna raise my voice it´s my weapon of choice the end of entertaiment is the beginning of war my guitar my guitar i´m cursing an ointment hear me snorting a symphonie every flatulence an opera every drop of sweat an elegy Songtextecreate something out of nothing i faking the highlights i could my fingerprints in mass production a public hair nailed to a pieve of wood my guitar like a kalashnikov my bass-drum like a bazooka pick up youre artillery in the myth of defeat and if i´m gonna crack my voice it´s my weapon of choice the end of entertaiment is the beginning of war my guitar my guitar i don´t knoe where i´m going everbody follow me i don´t knoe where i´m going everbody follow me i don´t knoe where i´m going everbody follow me if i knew where i was going i wouldn´t want you to come with me my guitar like a kalashnikov my bass-drum like a bazooka pick up youre artillery in the myth of defeat and if i´m gonna crack my voice it´s my weapon of choice the end of entertaiment is the beginning of war my guitar my guitar (Dank an Mia für den Text) Aus Songtexte Mania