paroles de chanson Hole - Spot

In the ground, there are these holes that I keep tripping over
And I can walk right by their smelly remnants long left over
In the sky, the white gas clouds are drifting by, I wonder

I wonder what they think about
The stinking holes in white gas clouds
Still, nobody screams out loud

In the street, there are these people I keep tripping over
In the fields, there are the open spaces there to blunder
In the bank, the white-haired men are shaking hands in laughter

I wonder what they laugh about
The stinking holes in white gas clouds
From mending rags to shaking hands
I'd like to see their shaking hands

I'm ready for
This house to fall
The killing's done
And death is all

In an office, men are hurrying to up the numbers
And I can hear their meager wages slipping through their fingers
On this day, the masses turn from helplessness to fury

I wonder what they think about
The stinking holes in white gas clouds
The years of servitude for naught
Or thankfulness for what they got

I'm ready for
This house to fall
The killing's done
And death is all, yeah

I'm ready for
This house to fall
The killing's done
And death is all
The killing's done
And death is all, yeah