b s. - party on the death star. | Текст песни

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• b s.
• party on the death star.

Party on Iraq I will sing
Put your fingers up we will sing
Move your ass or drop
No one will remember yesterday
Who done wrote that anyway?

Party on Iraq and I say
Freckles get on top
If we stay focused on the job
maybe that'll show us you'll sing it too
I'm sayin' how do you do?

So party on Iraq I will sing
did you stay to lose your ring
did you stay to drop
or did you stay to freaking want to lose your mind?
did you leave it right behind?

A pack of goodie-goodie boys,
the king of rich white indie fools
can't have retards get shoved in schools
all over and across the USA
Oh, let the fuckers have their way

Party on Iraq and I am down to my last drugs [or rock i.e. crack, you know like co-caine]
so I start staring at the rocks and I think
"what the fucking fuck they gonna say?"
or I could just rape my indie date

Party on Iraq and I think
Everybody sucks and I think
mournful everytime I think somebody stole my fucking empathy
Can evil work behind the mean?

So, party on Iraq I will sing
New Kids on the Block I will sing
Sacrifice the wrists
Why don't you just admit it's been a blast
As if we thought it would last

So, party on Iraq and we see
Everybody's ring-a-ding-ding
We smile and rave and dance to this hippie crap
and it's all so fucking groovy, groovy, GROOVY!

grooovy....
GROOVY!
grooovy....
GROOVY!

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