Album: Saints of Los Angeles
I opened up the bottle and I fell out of bed
I couldn't find the floor until it hit me in the head
I did a little powder off the bathroom sink
It's been about a month and something's starting to stink
Me and the band we are starting to fight
Cuz if we got along it just wouldn't feel right
We're the white trash circus... don't give a damn
We'll steal your girl whenever we can
We're the drunken gods of the living dead
We're the voice, we're the voice,
We're the voice in your head
We're the trash, we're the trash,
We're the trash in your bed
Been livin' on the road about a year and a half
If we go another mile we're gonna kick each other's ass
Someone's gonna quit or someone's gonna die
And we don't give a shit because we're busy getting high
Another lawsuit another arrest
Wouldn't change a thing because we love it to death
We're the white trash circus... don't give a damn
We'll steal your girl whenever we can
We're the drunken gods of the living dead
We're the voice, we're the voice,
We're the voice in your head
We're the trash, we're the trash,
We're the trash in your bed
We're the sons of the devil, we're the blood on the stage
You can love us you can hate us but we'll never go away