Из альбома: Nothing Is Sacred

The empty page in front of me
Is strangling my nerves
The pencil I'm chewing
Won't write by itself
40 cigarettes further
My lungs just start to whistle
This got to be done
I'm out of time
But my mind is still on strike

This song's 'bout nothin'
I had no idea
So this one's called the nothing song
Never again I'll do so wrong
Hey, hey
I somehow filled the lines
It was done in time
A last minute score
Don't you be mopin' no more
I've got it
Uh, I somehow like it

The others called me lazy
I guess they're somehow right
But sometimes it is really hard
To create a simple rhyme
Sure all this sounds stupid
And a little bit senseless
But now that I'm tired
And nearly drunk
I'll better go to bed

Bullshit

Комментарии