1. |
CycoVision
01:49
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You tell me what I want to hear
I hear it all with my ears
But that won't do me any use
So I use my eyes to see the truth
I've got cyco vision
I use cyco vision
I said cyco vision
I see with cyco vision
It doesn't matter what you say, bullshit
It only matters what you do, no shit
You cannot take the easy way out with me
'Cause I got cyco vision
You put a smile on your face
To try and hide behind your lies
But it just magnifies the pain in your soul that I see with my cyco vision
When you think with all your might
You change right to wrong and wrong to right
But it stays the same to me
'Cause I got cyco vision
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2. |
Wasted Again
03:03
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1, 2, 3, 4!
I've got a brand new bag
The old one was such a drag
I'm going to the void
I'm gonna get destroyed
Sweeping floors working nine to five
Working for the weekend just to stay alive
Streets are dead but I'm totally wired
(backing: It's 4 am) and my soul is on fire!
And I'm wasted again
Tanked up on the juice and gin
Wasted again
All right!
We're going to the disco
We're going to he bar
We're going in the snowplough
We're gonna take it far
Sweeping floors working nine to five
Working for the weekend just to stay alive
Streets are dead but I'm totally wired
(backing: Dude it's 6 am) and my soul is on fire!
And I'm wasted again
Tanked up on the juice and gin
Wasted again
All right!
You know I'm wasted again
I'll never ever feel this good again
Wasted again
Fuck yeah!
So won't you meet me in the twilight zone
'Cause I'm the boy that nobody owns and
My body is a temple
My body is a temple
My body is a temple
And tonight I'll tear it down!
Wasted again
Tanked up on the juice and gin
Wasted again
All right!
You know I'm wasted again
I'll never ever feel this good again
Wasted again
Fuck yeah!
I'm the boy that nobody owns
I'm the boy that nobody owns
I'm the boy that nobody owns
And I'm wasted!
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3. |
Fake Punk
02:24
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This here's a song about the things you don't find in nature
This here's a tale about conditions of the head
At one time I wanted to expand my education but
Now I'll make more money if I dye my hair instead.
We gotta be more punk, and forget about writing love songs
And even though I'm a middle class Canadian
God knows I've been done wrong
I'm a fake punk! I'm a fake punk!
I'll even use a dirty word, I'll even write a mean song,
I'll even take a mean picture
'Cause I've got the hair for it!
I've always tried to dig myself out of the sewer
I've always strived to be a little bit more well-read
But oh no! Here comes that rock press interviewer so,
I'll just look real tough and say fuck a lot instead
We gotta be more punk, and forget about writing love songs
And even though I'm a middle class Canadian
God knows I've been done wrong
I'm a fake punk! I'm a fake punk!
I'll even use a dirty word, I'll even write a mean song,
I'll even take a mean picture
'Cause I've got the hair for it!
Hey - Hey - Hey!
I'd be alright if I could just hang out with my girlfriend
I'd be just fine if they would close down all the bars
And maybe one day I'll join a protest against smoking
But when it comes to sincere angst you can just
Leave me the fuck alone!
We gotta be more punk, and forget about writing love songs
And even though I'm a middle class Canadian
God knows I've been done wrong
I'm a fake punk! I'm a fake punk!
I'm a fake punk! I'm a fake punk!
I'm a fake punk! I'm a fake punk!
Hey - Hey - Hey!
Hey - Hey - Hey!
Atrophy! I mean Anarchy...
Sorry! Anarchy!
Anarchy!
Anarchy!
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4. |
Roots Radicals
02:52
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Took the 60 bus, out of downtown Campbell, Ben Zandito
He was on there he was waitin' for me
All the punk rockers and the moon stompers
Are out on the corners where they sparing for change
I started thinkin', you know I started drinkin'
You know I don't really remember too much of that day
Somethin' struck me funny when we ran out of money
Where do you go now when your only 15
With the music execution and the talk of revolution
It bleeds in me and it goes
Give 'em the boot, the roots the radicals
Give 'em the boot, you know I'm a radical
Give 'em the boot, the roots, the reggae on my stereo
The radio was playin' Desmon Dekker was singin'
On the 43 bus as we climb up the hill
Nothin' incoming but the reggae drummin'
And we all come from unloving homes
I said
Why even bother I pick up the bottle
Hey Mr. Bus Driver please let these people on
Rude girl carol was a mini-skirt girl
My blurry vision saw nothin' wrong
With the music execution and the talk of revolution
It bleeds in me and it goes
Give 'em the boot, the roots the radicals
Give 'em the boot, you know I'm a radical
Give 'em the boot, the roots, the reggae on my stereo
On my stereo
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Took the 60 bus, out of downtown Campbell Ben Zandito
He was on there he was waitin' for me
All the punk rockers and the moon stompers
Are out on the corners where they sparing for change
And the radio was playin' Desmon Dekker was singin'
On the 43 bus as we climb up the hill
Nothin' incoming but the reggae drummin'
And we all come from unloving homes
With the music execution and the talk of revolution
It bleeds in me
and it goes...
Give 'em the boot, the roots the radicals
Give 'em the boot, you know I'm a radical
Give 'em the boot, the roots, the reggae on my stereo
Give 'em the boot, the roots the radicals
Give 'em the boot, you know I'm a radical
Give 'em the boot, the roots, the reggae on my stereo
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5. |
I Hate You
02:17
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You were just a waste of sperm
They way you look
Makes my stomach turn
The way you think
Is no way at all
God you really think you have balls
I hate you
Ain't it true
I hate you
And everything you do
You walk around like a fucking dick
And everytime you're near
You know I get real sick
You're so stupid
There's nothing in your head
God how I wish that you were dead
I hate you
Ain't it true
I hate you
And everything you do
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6. |
||||
You were just a waste of sperm
They way you look
Makes my stomach turn
The way you think
Is no way at all
God you really think you have balls
I hate you
Ain't it true
I hate you
And everything you do
You walk around like a fucking dick
And everytime you're near
You know I get real sick
You're so stupid
There's nothing in your head
God how I wish that you were dead
I hate you
Ain't it true
I hate you
And everything you do
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In Other Climes Nice, France
Life is a big party and these guys know how to celebrate life! Hailing from the South of France, IN OTHER CLIMES is a metal hardcore band formed in 2004 by five close friends sharing the same goal : show to the world how they use their bestial energy to make each show a true party mayhem. ... more
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