Читать книгу Nick Cave: Letras - Nick Cave - Страница 39

Big—Jesus soul-mates trash—can

fucking rotten business this

both feet in the Bad-Boot

stiff in the crypt, baby, like a rock

rock-rock-rock

Big—Jesus soul-mates trash—can

pumped me fulla trash at least it smelt like trash

wears a suit of Gold (got greasy hair)

but God gave me Sex appeal

well-well-well-well-rock

well-well-well-well-rock

well-well-well-well-rock

well-well-well-well-rock

he drives a trash—can

he drives a trash—can

he drives a trash—can

he drives a trash—can

he’s comin’ to my town rock-rock-rockr-

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ck!

Big–Jesus–oil–King down in Texas

drives great holy tanks of Gold

Screams from heaven’s Graveyard

American heads will roll in Texas

(roll like Daddies’ Meat)

roll under those singing stars of Texas

well-well-well-well-rock

well-well-well-well-rock

well-well-well-well-rock

well-well-well-well-rock

he drives a trash—can

he drives a trash—can

he drives a trash—can

he drives a trash—can

He’s comin’ to my town, He’s comin’ to my town

He’s comin’ to my town, He’s comin’ to my town