Текст песни My Bad - Ceschi feat. Gregory Pepper & Kenny Dennis

Karl Marx from Trier
Died in an office chair
Exiled poor in London
Fat brain packed full of visionary ideas
That were never to be published
I can claim that I'm seeking love
And you would call it rubbish
This narcissistic monster macho traits have been passed down
For generations into my stomach
Animal instincts
Animal instincts
You could only make this monkey into something beautiful
If you believe in metamorphosis
What this is
Some kiss from a scumbags lips
Remind me of the evil that I've done quick
Remind yourself to never rely on this
We drive past [?] telephone poles
With stuffed bears and roses around them (Hey)
We will never remember the dead
We're so stuck in our fucking heads
Focused on ourselves
Again there's a frigid feeling that tingles our bones
When we pass those funeral homes
Knowing fully well none of them were ever close
Frank Black moans on my headphones
This monkey's gone to heaven
Screaming "God is seven"
How could [?] in that tour van accident
Now I'm stuck remembering him

Just where we end the poem
I don't wanna know

Cause I'm feeling so sad
But
Maybe that's my bad
You'll never know
Feeling so sad
[?] and black