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Hey, It's Your Funeral Mama

Text písně Hey, It's Your Funeral Mama

The sky is blue, the grass is brown
My head is buried inside this helmet
The ever present threat of parasites
So take my hand, let's get these motors running!


So you drive red (you drive red)
And I'll drive black (I'll drive black)
(We'll see who's machine was most recently serviced)
We'll slit these rows of Goodyears like a knife


We don't fear [5x]
These machines


I got the scoop, I got the scoop
And it doesn't look so good, so good for you


So you drive red (you drive red)
And I'll drive black (I'll drive black)
(We'll see who's machine was most recently serviced)
We'll cut this row of Goodyear like a knife
Like a knife, like a knife, yeah
We'll cut this row of Goodyear like a knife


So you drive red (you drive red)
And I'll drive black (I'll drive black)
(We'll see who's machine was most recently serviced)
We'll cut this row of Goodyears like a knife.

					

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