...and then there's The 'Mats!!
can't sleep, so it's Insomniac TV time:
God, I love The Replacements…
BASTARDS OF YOUNG
God, what a mess, on the ladder of success
Where you take one step and miss the whole first rung
Dreams unfulfilled, graduate unskilled
It beats pickin cotton and waitin’ to be forgotten
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons
Clean your baby womb, trash that baby boom
Elvis in the ground, there ain’t no beer tonight
Income tax deduction, what a hell of a function
It beats pickin cotton and waitin’ to be forgotten
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons
Unwillingness to claim us, ya got no war to name us
The ones who love us best are the ones we’ll lay to rest
And visit their graves on holidays at best
The ones who love us least are the ones well die to please
If it’s any consolation, I don’t begin to understand them
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons
Young...take it, its yours...
More:
GOD DAMN JOB & JUNIOR GOT A GUN
AND FOR R.B.W:..
DOPE SMOKIN’ MORON
I’M IN TROUBLE/DON’T ASK WHY
I HATE MUSIC/STUCK IN THE MIDDLE
COME ON, FUCKER!
I could go on…damn, YouTube rocks! and PW's tunes for "Open Season" are AOK...
God, I love The Replacements…
BASTARDS OF YOUNG
God, what a mess, on the ladder of success
Where you take one step and miss the whole first rung
Dreams unfulfilled, graduate unskilled
It beats pickin cotton and waitin’ to be forgotten
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons
Clean your baby womb, trash that baby boom
Elvis in the ground, there ain’t no beer tonight
Income tax deduction, what a hell of a function
It beats pickin cotton and waitin’ to be forgotten
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons
Unwillingness to claim us, ya got no war to name us
The ones who love us best are the ones we’ll lay to rest
And visit their graves on holidays at best
The ones who love us least are the ones well die to please
If it’s any consolation, I don’t begin to understand them
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons
Young...take it, its yours...
More:
GOD DAMN JOB & JUNIOR GOT A GUN
AND FOR R.B.W:..
DOPE SMOKIN’ MORON
I’M IN TROUBLE/DON’T ASK WHY
I HATE MUSIC/STUCK IN THE MIDDLE
COME ON, FUCKER!
I could go on…damn, YouTube rocks! and PW's tunes for "Open Season" are AOK...
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