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Portugal. The Man - Guns. Guns...Guns lyrics
Where have all the people gone Whose lives are no longer of use to them But this system bites habit forming this But this single file is so contagious But black eyes breed gossip Like these perverse and perversions alike Hibernate while you're still young But you are getting older So much older So much older than you think Still not fallen, years away Your head's a snake out and a serpant smiling Crank the tap. Itch. Brimming with suspicions The burrows are brimming with suspicions Where have all the people gone Whose guns are gold cold son of a bitch I know "I'll travel anywhere I like" I say, "I'll travel anywhere I please". I say, but black eyes breed gossip Like these perverse and perversions alike Just like these perverse and perversions alike Hibernate while you're still young But you are getting older So much older So much older than you think Still not fallen, years away Your head's a snake out and a serpant smiling Crank the tap. Itch. Brimming with suspicions The burrows are brimming with suspicions Where have all the trumpets gone They're playin us da da dadada da da The priest's on the boat And hell is on its way . |
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