Letra da Música Albert Camus de Titus Andronicus
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Running around this run-down, one-horse town
One of these days, they're gonna crucify me
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable it is to be young
Dumb, and have lots of money
We will sit upon this grassy knoll
Holding hands and stroking handguns
With pristine souls
And even my own mother will tell you I am an asshole
But underneath it all, there is an apathetic heart of gold
So who will be saved, from the least to the greatest men
Because even Honest Abe
Sold poison milk to schoolchildren
The blood drive came to Glen Rock High
In a white bus with red letters on the side
And a long shiny needle they brought
To suck me dry like missionary mosquitoes in the sky
Now you're doing time for stealing candy from a babe
Because all the kids
In Ridgewood have got cell phones these days
And if you wear a mask
They can still read your license plate
And a wireless line is a terrible thing to waste
Because the more we think, the less it all makes sense
Tonight we will drink to our general indifference
Lamb of God
We think nothing of ourselves at all
So death, be not proud
Because we don't give a fuck about nothing
And we only want what we are not allowed
One of these days, they're gonna crucify me
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable it is to be young
Dumb, and have lots of money
We will sit upon this grassy knoll
Holding hands and stroking handguns
With pristine souls
And even my own mother will tell you I am an asshole
But underneath it all, there is an apathetic heart of gold
So who will be saved, from the least to the greatest men
Because even Honest Abe
Sold poison milk to schoolchildren
The blood drive came to Glen Rock High
In a white bus with red letters on the side
And a long shiny needle they brought
To suck me dry like missionary mosquitoes in the sky
Now you're doing time for stealing candy from a babe
Because all the kids
In Ridgewood have got cell phones these days
And if you wear a mask
They can still read your license plate
And a wireless line is a terrible thing to waste
Because the more we think, the less it all makes sense
Tonight we will drink to our general indifference
Lamb of God
We think nothing of ourselves at all
So death, be not proud
Because we don't give a fuck about nothing
And we only want what we are not allowed
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Ficha Técnica da Música Albert Camus
Número de Palavras | 193 |
Número de Letras | 1145 |
Intérprete | Titus Andronicus |
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