|
Hey there little boy |
|
now don't you be afraid |
|
your father doesn't love you |
|
and he's made your mom a slave |
|
They got between the sheets |
|
to make your evil frame |
|
with larcenies and lies |
|
all signs and arrows aim |
|
And it's always gonna be the same |
|
Take the barrel, take the breath and the aim |
|
And it's always gonna feel the same |
|
Take the mark, take the guess out of the game |
|
Say there little boy now |
|
don't you be afraid |
|
Your mommy doesn't love you |
|
and your daddy's just a slave, |
|
he smokes up all the sheets and then |
|
he buys some more cocaine |
|
and you'll find films of him banging broads |
|
and it could be your mother all the same |
|
And our lord will always feel the same |
|
Take the barrel, take the breath and the aim |
|
And our lord will always feel the same |
|
Take the mark, take the guess out of the game |
|
Life will always be the same |
|
Take the barrel, take the breath and the aim |
|
And our lord will always feel the same |
|
Take the mark, take the guess out of the game |
