Right!
|
|
Big-Jesus soul-mates Trash-Can
|
fucking rotten business this
|
both feet in the Bad-Boot
|
stiff in the crypt, babay, like a rock
|
rock-rock-rock
|
Big-Jesus soul-mates Trash-Can
|
and he pumped me fulla Trash at least it smelt like Trash
|
and he's got greasy hair wears a suit of Gold
|
but god gave me Sex appeal
|
right right
|
|
well-well-well-rock
|
well-well-well-rock
|
well-well-well-rock
|
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 rock-rock-rock-
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r-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ck!
|
right!
|
|
|
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 llike daddy's meat
|
roll under those singing stars of Texas
|
roll under those glorious singing stars of Texas
|
|
well-well-well-rock
|
well-well-well-rock
|
well-well-well-rock
|
well-well-well-rock
|
he drives a Trash-Can
|
he drives a Trash-Can
|
he drives a Trash-Can
|
he's comin' to my town
|
he drives a Trash-Can
|
he's comin' to my town
|
he drives a Trash-Can
|
he's comin' to my town
|
he drives a Trash-Can
|
he's comin' to my town
|
he drives a Trash-Can
|
|
-----------------
|
BIG-JESUS-TRASH-CAN
|
| The Birthday Party |
