Song | A Growing Boy Needs His Lunch |
Artist | Dead Kennedys |
Album | Frankenchrist |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Dead Kennedys | |
In lonely gas stations with mini-marts | |
You'll find rows of them for sale | |
Liquor-filled statues of elvis presley | |
Drink like a vampire | |
His disciples flock to such a fitting shrine | |
Sprawled across from his graceless mansion | |
A shopping mall | |
Filled with prayer rugs and elvis dolls | |
And i wonder | |
Yeah i wonder | |
Will elvis take the place of jesus in a thousand years | |
Religious wars | |
Barbaric laws | |
Bloodshed worldwide | |
Over what's left of his myth | |
A growing boy needs his lunch | |
When pesticides get banned we're safe up north | |
We just sell them to those other countries | |
Soon there's lots of exotic deformed babies | |
Somehow that's not our fault | |
Just dip 'em in glaze paint 'em orange and green | |
For the arizona roadside stands | |
To sell alongside plaster burros and birthbaths | |
And i wonder | |
Yeah i wonder | |
Why so many insects around us feed off the dead | |
Death squads | |
Starvation | |
Foreign aid? | |
Just leave it to the magic of the marketplace | |
A growing boy needs his lunch | |
Everyone should just love each other | |
Dip your toe into the fire | |
Drop your guns and lawsuits and love each other | |
Life begins beyond the bunker | |
And while you're busy hugging in the streets | |
Outgrowing your hatred for all to feel | |
Jiminy cricket's found a game to play | |
Stick your neck out and trust◇it'll be chopped away | |
Jimmy through your locked front doors | |
Rifle through your sacred drawers | |
Line my pockets | |
Deface your dreams | |
Til the cows come home to me | |
Nibbling like an earwig winding through your brain | |
Bound like lawrence harvey spreadeagle to a bed | |
The migraine gets worse when we find out we lay eggs | |
And no one in all of borneo can hear you scream | |
Turn on | |
Tune in | |
Cop out | |
Drop kick turn in tune out |
zuo ci : Dead Kennedys | |
In lonely gas stations with minimarts | |
You' ll find rows of them for sale | |
Liquorfilled statues of elvis presley | |
Drink like a vampire | |
His disciples flock to such a fitting shrine | |
Sprawled across from his graceless mansion | |
A shopping mall | |
Filled with prayer rugs and elvis dolls | |
And i wonder | |
Yeah i wonder | |
Will elvis take the place of jesus in a thousand years | |
Religious wars | |
Barbaric laws | |
Bloodshed worldwide | |
Over what' s left of his myth | |
A growing boy needs his lunch | |
When pesticides get banned we' re safe up north | |
We just sell them to those other countries | |
Soon there' s lots of exotic deformed babies | |
Somehow that' s not our fault | |
Just dip ' em in glaze paint ' em orange and green | |
For the arizona roadside stands | |
To sell alongside plaster burros and birthbaths | |
And i wonder | |
Yeah i wonder | |
Why so many insects around us feed off the dead | |
Death squads | |
Starvation | |
Foreign aid? | |
Just leave it to the magic of the marketplace | |
A growing boy needs his lunch | |
Everyone should just love each other | |
Dip your toe into the fire | |
Drop your guns and lawsuits and love each other | |
Life begins beyond the bunker | |
And while you' re busy hugging in the streets | |
Outgrowing your hatred for all to feel | |
Jiminy cricket' s found a game to play | |
Stick your neck out and trust it' ll be chopped away | |
Jimmy through your locked front doors | |
Rifle through your sacred drawers | |
Line my pockets | |
Deface your dreams | |
Til the cows come home to me | |
Nibbling like an earwig winding through your brain | |
Bound like lawrence harvey spreadeagle to a bed | |
The migraine gets worse when we find out we lay eggs | |
And no one in all of borneo can hear you scream | |
Turn on | |
Tune in | |
Cop out | |
Drop kick turn in tune out |
zuò cí : Dead Kennedys | |
In lonely gas stations with minimarts | |
You' ll find rows of them for sale | |
Liquorfilled statues of elvis presley | |
Drink like a vampire | |
His disciples flock to such a fitting shrine | |
Sprawled across from his graceless mansion | |
A shopping mall | |
Filled with prayer rugs and elvis dolls | |
And i wonder | |
Yeah i wonder | |
Will elvis take the place of jesus in a thousand years | |
Religious wars | |
Barbaric laws | |
Bloodshed worldwide | |
Over what' s left of his myth | |
A growing boy needs his lunch | |
When pesticides get banned we' re safe up north | |
We just sell them to those other countries | |
Soon there' s lots of exotic deformed babies | |
Somehow that' s not our fault | |
Just dip ' em in glaze paint ' em orange and green | |
For the arizona roadside stands | |
To sell alongside plaster burros and birthbaths | |
And i wonder | |
Yeah i wonder | |
Why so many insects around us feed off the dead | |
Death squads | |
Starvation | |
Foreign aid? | |
Just leave it to the magic of the marketplace | |
A growing boy needs his lunch | |
Everyone should just love each other | |
Dip your toe into the fire | |
Drop your guns and lawsuits and love each other | |
Life begins beyond the bunker | |
And while you' re busy hugging in the streets | |
Outgrowing your hatred for all to feel | |
Jiminy cricket' s found a game to play | |
Stick your neck out and trust it' ll be chopped away | |
Jimmy through your locked front doors | |
Rifle through your sacred drawers | |
Line my pockets | |
Deface your dreams | |
Til the cows come home to me | |
Nibbling like an earwig winding through your brain | |
Bound like lawrence harvey spreadeagle to a bed | |
The migraine gets worse when we find out we lay eggs | |
And no one in all of borneo can hear you scream | |
Turn on | |
Tune in | |
Cop out | |
Drop kick turn in tune out |