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They taught me songs of cognac and rumto keep away all them spiritual doldrumsThey'll start to burn and I should've ran slept like a stick in the old beaver damand we will start a hungry war like Napoleon, by shooting off our mouth and the beads of sweat are so gullible, that they will glow...They sacrificed at the ports of BruneiThey sold me out with their chins to the sky might be my son, let me see your handsI should've drowned you when I had the chance and we will fly through the land like syphilis, cutting off their ballsAnd their punishment will run in a caravan, led by shouts... Some grace lands, are like a little secret there to keep you interestedOn daytime shifts I'll dig through the trash on nighttime runs I'll sort out the pastIf wishes lived where the bone breakers quakethese lips of mine they will drink from the lake they are crushed by the cunts of the colony, a timid goal golemand there's a fence hiding backyard dividends, and precious few... Those bottles shatter at the sound of disputeand bottlecaps are a chorus of rootsThe bass is sung with a conscience renewed by melodies that will never concludeSo by and by there is grass on the battleground, and the weed grows againand the soft little strip of an arrowtip, will never cut...And the broad man, broad shoulders squared... Songtexteagainst the bomb It's a brave little bayleaf cold... and curing strongIt's winter's night west virginia style... I'll call it home it's summer's eve the clam shell is cracked... The mussel's out Aus Songtexte Mania