Lyrics Shredding The Balloon Restrung - Hilltop Hoods
Like
we
always
do
about
this
time,
ink
lines
for
the
sick
rhyme
inclined,
It's
grimy
shit
but
naught
that
can't
be
fixed
with
a
little
bit
of
spitshine,
Big
time
like
Frankie
in
Vegas,
inspiring
like
Ali
and
Frazier,
Spit
it
out
till
we
spilling
out
on
to
the
street
start
a
party
up
with
our
neighbours,
I'd
rather
be
part
of
your
playlist,
than
ever
be
part
of
the
A-list,
Harness
the
energy,
heart
of
a
pedigree
with
the
scars
of
a
sadist,
I
go
so
hard
on
the
pavement;
I
go
so
far
with
my
statements,
That
I
don't
know
where
they
end
and
where
I
start
it's
all
part
of
game
it's,
The
farthest
I've
came
since
I
started
to
play
it,
I
spar
with
these
artists,
the
heartless
and
brainless,
We're
harnessed
by
chains
that
are
hard
to
escape
and
you
change
then
they
label
us
bastards
or
traitors,
They're
charlatans,
they're
haters,
they
start
on
us
but
they're
fake
as,
Our
parliament,
but
don't
be
disheartened
by
them
pardon
their
failures,
If
we
don't
forgive
our
enemies,
we'll
crawl
the
walls
like
centipedes,
Burn
our
energy
like
fossil
fuels
and
fuel
our
own
damn
effigy,
And
we'll
all
burn
like
Hennessey,
so
keep
on
then
and
step
with
me,
John
Lennon
let
it
be,
dead
the
beef
like
abattoirs,
before
these
scavengers
tear
at
me
I've
been
waiting
to
come
back,
Like
where
the
hell
is
the
show?
Like
a
balloon
on
a
thumbtack,
Getting
ready
to
blow,
I've
been
waiting
to
come
back,
Like
where
the
hell
is
the
show?
Like
a
balloon
on
a
thumbtack,
Getting
ready
to
blow
And
it
might
blow
up
but
it
won't
go
pop,
And
it
might
blow
up
but
it
won't
burst,
She
said
she
might
grow
old
but
she
won't
grow
up,
Well
she
might,
but
only
if
I
go
first,
She
wears
her
heart
on
her
sleeve
like;
she's
wearing
a
patch
on
her
shoulder,
It's
not
a
matter
of
whether
I
can
catch
her,
more
a
matter
of
whether
I
can
hold
her,
She
thinks
out
loud
she's
got
me;
she
laughs
with
her
whole
body,
I
think
about
how
she
got
it
all
figured
out
and
wonder
why
she'd
even
want
me?
Each
night
I
find
it's
the
same
ole,
when
I
crawl
inside
in
the
evening,
I
lie
down
next
to
an
angel;
fall
asleep
and
fly
with
my
demons,
They
say
don't
live
in
the
past
and
live
each
day
like
it
was
your
last
but,
I'd
rather
live
each
moment
like
it
was
my
first,
take
it
slow
and
sip
from
the
glass,
Savour
the
moment,
spit
vicious
bars
then
pray
for
opponents,
Sounds
so
serious
don't
it?
But
I'm
not
concerned
with
a
thing,
This
is
book
three,
Tolkien,
Return
of
the
King,
The
kings
have
arrived;
we
drink
from
the
sky,
We
fall
from
all
'cause
we
think
we
can
fly,
But
our
wings
have
been
tied,
and
the
winging
and
lies,
Have
me
I'm
wishing
that
I
could
bridge
the
divide,
You
living
the
life?
In
the
blink
of
an
eye
The
shine
of
the
bling
and
the
rims
that
you
ride,
Can
all
disappear
so
live
for
the
rhyme,
Not
material
things
your
gift
can
provide
I've
been
waiting
to
come
back,
Like
where
the
hell
is
the
show?
Like
a
balloon
on
a
thumbtack,
We're
getting
ready
to
blow,
I've
been
waiting
to
come
back,
Like
where
the
hell
is
the
show?
Like
a
balloon
on
a
thumbtack,
I'm
getting
ready
right
now
I'm
getting
ready
Since
'State
of
the
Art'
we've
stayed
in
the
yard
just
waiting
to
start
this
shit
all
over,
Laying
in
bars
for
a
day
and
a
half,
had
to
switch
from
gin
to
soda,
And
by
like
mid
October,
record
was
six
months
over,
Due,
and
I'm
like
dude
what
you
expect?
I'm
only
three
months
sober,
Coming
up
turning
tree
trunks
over,
running
up
burning
divas,
posers,
Run
amok
till
the
sun
is
up
or
till
one
of
us
# live
la
vidaloca,
I'm
going
ta
roll
until
I
fold,
like
I
got
a
hold
of
Propafol,
So
beautiful
to
know
you
all
but
for
now
peace
I'm
over
and
out
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