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| troy kennedy martin, david mckenna, magazines, mr.show with bob and david, brigante, 1979 in sports, cinema, puff daddy, paul haggis, stars, discography, amsterdam, skins, wtmotherf, middle aged persons, images, ben shenkman, | A disease down to the core [Chorus] You, yeah you, yeah you zines Still haven't figured what it is you do Just zines a no talent nothing with a ten ton ego Until your 15 minutes are through You, yeah you, yeah you A conscience deaf and blind I'm driving the hearse without remorse Killing you and your kind [Chorus] 3. 13 Years Of Grief You're so fuckin' tough, so motherfuckin' bad 13 years of grief is all your folks ever had zines Just an ignorant cunt, talkin' such shit Tryin to act like a man, you little fuckin' punk kid [CHORUS] Yeah Son, look at you now Yeah Son, look at you now Day of court, day of fear, in walks the judge Half a year nothing less, no he wouldn't budge Hand over your belongings and your motherfuckin' soul That's the joy of life, six months in the hole [Chorus] You raped your mother, yeah you beat her down Jesus can't protect you when your brain is unfound Once so fuckin' tough, so motherfuckin' bad 13 years of grief is all your folks ever had [Chorus] 4. |
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| 13 Years Of Grief4. Rust5. Superterrorizer6. Counterfeit God7. Ain't Life Grand8. Just Killing Time9. Bullet troy kennedy martin Inside Your Head10. Stronger Than Death11. Love Reign Down 1. All For You My neck has been broke in the noose of life's rope Through My troy kennedy martin loss of you I have troy kennedy martin found no hope Slain emotions, lifeless and blue Destroying myself now All for you Remote recollections of tranquility Terror grotesquely becoming of me Unnamable joy when our blood once ran true Destroying myself now All for you 2. Phoney Smiles & Fake Hellos You, yeah you, yeah you You got a cardboard cutout soul Just a powertripping, mindraping, backstabbing junkie Thinking your hype is true You, yeah you, yeah you Respect ain't a word you know You're just a fabricated lie that doesn't exist Dropping names wherever you go [CHORUS] Life's phoney smiles and fake hellos The hardcore rush of watching heads roll As I dig your grave and kill your lifeless stare Fuck yourself for all I fucking care You, yeah you, yeah you Thinking you know it all 35 years old with a wife and two kids Still living and your mother's home You, yeah you, yeah you A sellout and a social whore You'd sell your mother's soul just to get ahead |
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