Lyrics:
Midnight, a woman walks alone
City streets to the hills (down on the hills she walks)
Eye make up, french perfume, short red dress and high heels
You sound like a bitch, bitch
Shut the fuck up
When your fans become your haters
You done?
Fuck, your beard's weird
Alright
You yellin'
You (Who me?) Yeah you (Why me?)
It's fine by me I'll drink it up
If you want tea, you're out of luck
Silly goose
You're my silly goose
Sunday driving,
and grain did
Honour us
returning at evening from the great mountains
Out red hoods ring with bells lightly we run
Until before our own green hill
There we
of a dollar cigar and took a puff. Says "My, ain't this purdy up here."
I says, "Earl, this hill can spill us. You better slow down or you gonna kill us. Just
chrome red
So the picture of me winning will be embed
Right in your fucking head
Wonda
Riding in the Honda
Black shades on you would think I'm Steve
I was towelled up to the waist while you were fresh from the confession
The angry streets they twisted up and billowed with the laughter
Anyway I
And now I'm falling through the mania
Don't remember me when I pass
Please don't remember me as Steve When I pass
Watch the fall from afar
Please sweep up
Superior he was up against it that's for sure
But John stood there and took it on the chin
From the hills of northern Ireland to the forests
the globe
Picture a girl, mad at the world that dressed up plastic like a pearl
Everyone knows, still they pose when the red light glows
Holly Won't
Holly
As the clouds drift by overhead
I'm all but nothing as I struggle 'long the railing
As door and open door pass by on my left
As everything I have is wrapped up
fear
Keep that choppa on deck
If a hater run up on me
Hit him up with no rat
It's big business, big bills
And big choppas
Cherry red Challenger, lookin
all over her shirt
Smokin og on that codine
Roll a dub by full of that purp
I said hoe you Betta turn up
Cuz my nation bout that burn up
Got that Asian
the bridge
The men like falling leaves
Or ears of corn that fall in swathes
The vicious sickle cleaves
The tide receded up the hill
The waste of reclaimed
back to you
Crawling slowly up the hills, I fight so hard I cry
to think of you then gives me thrills, so down the hills I fly
No run-down bridge no
Shreeveport, Louisianna
Dick Curtis got hung up on a hill in Maine
I pulled him over with my forty-foot chain
He got the fever
He got the freight-liner fever
Five little kids, skin red as cherries
Skipped over hills tired and merry
Enough time mommy was laid to rest
Breath of life loose around her chest
could head up to Mulholland Drive
cnd let the road do the rest
Red bougainvillea covers the hill
Beauty leaves nothing until
Winters are warm
I'm waitin on the hill at Blueberry Gates
Thinkin of your smile when you look my way
It's true babe
It's all for you babe
So come and pick me up in
Opposition popped my mans, Spin back, How it feel
Low on wock, Low on Wock, Bitch I need a Refill
When I pop he pray to god like his name Steve Hill
I just
on the hills
Purely trust
She’s giving up
All that she’s holding surpressed in her heart
The miles fly by
The speed is high
But nothing stops her on the way
bovine tonight, I said...
Jog, beef, jog
I'm feeling it
Running with these cows just feels right
Running up a hill with a cow
Running down the street with
Well, let me sing of the losers who lie
In the street as the last bus goes by
The pavements ar empty, the gutters run red while the fool toasts his god
and it's rough
The Germans look to mount an offensive building up
Thousands and thousands of men marching tough
To a battlefield that stretched miles
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