You're so out of it
You can't give a speech
You're so wasted
Your brain cell won't think
Your eyes are shocking pink
Your lips are ruby red
Wouldn't it be better
If we were peanut butter
on a moldy piece of bread
Knowing that the angels will soon
Let loose the winds of dread
Die wicked generation
Uttered an angel from the sky
Die wicked generation
For this is the close of your Game of Destruction
You vote for a president
That decides full of flaws
Anti-Christ government
That's the way it's gonna be
You must fight for your rights
Against a polititian most of all
When they won't listen
Happy birthyear Judgement day
Death has won the race
So let us all embrace
Die wicked generation
Uttered an angel from the sky
Die wicked generation
For this is the close of your Game of Destruction
Game of destruction, yeah yeah !...
|