paroles de chanson Hung Up Down - Family
J.
Whitney
R.
Chapman
What
the
hell
bad
eggs
don't
smell
When
glossed
with
sleek
perfume
So
whose
to
cry,
politicians'
lie
When
you
know
damn
well
they
do.
CHORUS
Maybe
they're
hung
up
down
next
stop
They'll
maybe,
maybe
turn
around
Cos
they're
every
other
way
than
I
want
them
to
be.
Is
it
so
bad
when
men
turn
bad
To
rob
and
steal
from
friends
While
men
who
count
large
bank
account
Make
wards
for
their
own
ends.
Repeat
CHORUS
The
grossest
spew
of
world
war
two
Turns
some
men
inside
out
But
make
them
ride
with
coal
black
hides
They're
not
so
pure
throughout.
Repeat
CHORUS
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