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- Flings of the Waistcoat Crowd lyrics
Great days are becoming A matchlight liquor establishment Where the factory soaks its scabs It hangs there like insectrocutioner Over the big river Scum of us rinsed by a hard rain The tar, the teeth & the gear Yet no trail All around the camp And that is our game To brag and complain To guess who goes next To tally the scars Learn every weakness |
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| Last added lyrics |
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 Fornika by Die Fantastischen Vier |
 Big Dog Daddy by Toby Keith |
 Loyal to the Game by 2Pac |
 Memory Almost Full by Paul McCartney |
 Ghetto Classics by Jaheim |
