Comadre Grow Worms
Same shit but a not amused. Give us a way to fight these
hardcore blues. A simple mind for a world so blind, I
give a shit about your so called grind. So give me
liberty or give me meth, same guitars are choking me to
death. To all the broken up bands we dropped in our
hands. Where are you, got hunger, keep dying, like all
exlovers best friends you loved more than them, be
daring, feel coldness, be true. "Hello cowgirl in the
sand, is this place at your command?" Goodbye suedehead
in the snow the dance hall don't fit anymore. So make
your move. Dynamite, only trust dynamite now. We're not
moving. Lovers take not abandon all hope we're not
moving. "You'll never die alone," still not moving. If
you call your guts a home, still not moving, lesson one.
You are doomed, a revolutionary stuck in '72. Lesson two.
You are through Marc Bolan died and so will you.