Webshop
|
Freak Kitchen (www.freakkitchen.com)
Taste My Fist
A little tune about sport fans and the amazing fact that you can get your balls seriously kicked (an understatement) if you happen to like "the wrong team". Tiny pieces of leather sown together with air molecules inside can be really important to some people. Make sure you're on the right side before entering an arena to see the sport event of your choice or meet the charming Dr Marten and say "good evening" to the Big Guy in the clouds
Lyrics:
Football, baseball and racketball too
You should worry ‘bout the balls that I’m crushing on you I’m a sports fan, I’m above the law And my mission in life: Dr Martens versus your jaw Travel around the world in my "passion" for the ball Making sure it looks like I got no brain at all But that’s not true ‘cos I can count to four And I’m bitchin’ with a baseball bat in my private war Taste my fist, smell my wrist Spit your teeth out, taste my fist When it comes to starting riots: I am your man! There’s nothing I wouldn’t do as a hooligan I’m a lobotomized I don’t have to think A Molotov cocktail is my kind of drink Taste my fist, smell my wrist Spit your teeth out, taste my fist |
Album: "Spanking Hour"
|
Copyright © Freak Kitchen 1992-2007, all rights reserved.