paroles de chanson Tin of Worms - Chester P , Jam Baxter

Coarse light and terror
Hatch daily, die nightly
Slipping life signs, he grip on a divine psyche
Stored in a poor peasant
War in his war essence
Speed's nought to now in point four seconds
Your precious world ain't healthy
The scar tissue's towers burst
Burden in the skies, with an ill-fitting cloud of dirt
Skin snapping, white mounds of powder spurt out my shirt
Spelling out the words 'Young and Foolish' underground
A worse surgeon, swim clotted u-bends
As that scoundrel, with a mouth full of waterboard, weapons, and a snapped scalpel
Demonectomies that dawn on the background
Full of cheap gaudy décor
You get what you pay for, I guess
Bad winner in botched operation shocker!
Turn to every page for the full story and grace the horror
Hover here, little ones, change the lock and bathe in honour
Palatial squalor made possible, place your offer

Speak with conviction
Sparks from the friction
Dark on your doorstep with prayerless redemption:
Destiny's henchmen, faceless attractions
Poverty soldiers, chasing the fractions
Sinister reactions, closed in my captions
Cane like Chaplin, cotched up backbench
Posture is hunchback, full grown rugrat
Died then I come back, survival or combat
Rifles or contracts, lifelessly contact
Contrasts melt fast, thoughts go beyond 'drat!'
So clap, doh, cues voice of the locals
Learnt when I didn't go school to be a spokesman
Venom of a marksman, moved to advantage
Scars to my eyelids, modern Will Scarlet
Charming composure, dressed up and garnished
Orphans of freedom, maidens and harlets

Stand on a corner with a bulletproof smile
Moon in my pocket, money to burn
I got roots in the ground and my head's in the clouds
Sun's on my dial and a new tin of worms
Ghost birds sing from a nest in their grave
North winds howl on a methadone sky
My hand on my heart, where the truth's concerned
With this bat out of hell and a new tin of worms

My, how plush porcelain doll skull's can break easy
And fuck me, this train still parades creepy
Screeching train doors sliding, better push forth
Here's to the commuter that got his foot caught, splat!
Good sport, didn't scream, penny for the bloodstain
Some strange, hate-fueled rebellion in love's name
That's raging on a bruck stage, the false wall falling
Keeper of a tinfoil curtain, caught snoring
Report him from a plastic chair, glued to an incendiary
Mile high monument, a glutinous confectionery
That looms in every rooms, so choose a suitable dispensary
One small step from that human of the century award
He saw glory in the futures of his enemies
The flawed war stories from the students of dependency
Sir, is that a centipede hugging a glass ceiling
Or a scared pair of scorpions stuck in a jar breeding?

Peace for the soldiers
Tea for the homeless
Hope for the hopeless
Guarding a crow's nest, watching the progress
Earth's like a hostage, held by its offspring
Dying a slow death
Thirteenth apostle, these are my gospels
Native narratives, eyes that have watched you
Words that can touch you, child of the flowers
Mushrooms and ginger, praise to the powers
Freedom's inside me, screams in excitement
Freedom's for real, man, I'm talking of a triumph
Me and these giants, standing relentless
Throughout misadventures, call me the tempest
Strength to the strengthless, preached in a temple
Worshiping elements, life is essential
Nurture your mental, learn from your mentors
Sharpen your senses, change your dimensions
Range over race lands, fresh from the basement
Culled from the hatred, caused by the matrix
Face my reflection, classless and aimless
Nomads and vagrants, heroes and traitors
Trenches and craters, death's a hiatus
Hunt like hyenas, fight with your demons
Talk with your elders, walk with your elders
Talk with your elders, walk with your elders

Stand on a corner with a bulletproof smile
Moon in my pocket, money to burn
I got roots in the ground and my head's in the clouds
Sun's on my dial and a new tin of worms
Ghost birds sing from a nest in their grave
North winds howl on a methadone sky
My hand on my heart, where the truth's concerned
With this bat out of hell and a new tin of worms
Candyfloss dreams as the roulette spins
Gambler's eyes in the alcohol swirl
Drifting beyond any chance of return
With a handful of thoughts and a new tin of worms
Ships capsised on a ocean of wine
Pirates sing with a bottle full of rum:
'Yo-ho-ho,' from a state of no return
With a handful of thoughts and a new tin of worms