NINE ELEVEN - Under The Foam | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• NINE ELEVEN
• Under The Foam

From Charybdis to Scylla, 
all sirens sing some serene songs
Which all got the smell of the circus,
the taste of bread
and a forked tongue

They all pretend
to have something to say
When they just have clothes to sell
and a new trend to fit in.
 
Don’t give a fuck about their satanist rhymes,
The brand of the new bad boy’s stream
Or better, the new boy’s band firm,
Disguised as The Crow
With the eyes of a cow.

Hell Yeah !
The New Kids On The Block
are back in the black crowd
 
Now they wish they sounded like
swedish witches
Just because they wear
sweet reversed crosses.

Anyway with black shoes,
black suits, black hats,
White cats
all look the same at night.

And when they promote music
as one would with a sex tape,
Grabbing the mic like a sex toy
And use empty words
to fill up the same noise,
 
No matter if they exhume god
while doing the job,
Or blow mottos robbed to an old fight club,

They’re just making business
out of something dead

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