歌曲 | Litigation |
歌手 | The Tossers |
专辑 | Long Dim Road |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
Here once was a wee shop that an Irishman bought | |
In America, tried and true | |
But imports were scarce when they audit your wares | |
They keep you in court, is it racist or an easy target | |
Well, it's you! | |
Landlord, landlord, I.O.U. | |
Everyone should see this too | |
Landlord, landlord, thoughtless scum | |
Me duckin’ bullets, lazy bum | |
Lock me out take most of my things | |
Smash the rest in the street as tenacy sings | |
Landlord, I hate you and I hate this place | |
I hate this fuckin's city, nothing left for me to grace | |
All the tenants rush to collect my things | |
Cigarette walking down the road and I start to sing | |
Landlord won’t renew my lease | |
Pissin’ everybody off as their rents increase | |
No grants of funds as promised | |
And this job’s for the fuckin' birds | |
How the hell can I get out of here | |
Well, it sure ain’t flippin' burgers | |
Grown to accept the system and work within the state, but struggling | |
Begging for a check instead of my productivity is quite irate | |
Being scared into believing that we have to make it on our own | |
Accomplishment measured by how much crap we own | |
Like trusting that with hard work all the senators made it there | |
Without the help of midnight basketball and the support of the British Air | |
I’m Irish, not white American male, it's not the same | |
You try biking on through the West Side just to pay your rent in the rain | |
Looking out the window to see who has the power | |
Is it the whites or blacks or just the gun tower? | |
And we still, we still, we still pay all our dues | |
We still pay all our homage by ignorning their good news | |
And we still, we still, we pledge allegiance there | |
When someone’s almost paid the mortgage, till the system drops its snare |
Here once was a wee shop that an Irishman bought | |
In America, tried and true | |
But imports were scarce when they audit your wares | |
They keep you in court, is it racist or an easy target | |
Well, it' s you! | |
Landlord, landlord, I. O. U. | |
Everyone should see this too | |
Landlord, landlord, thoughtless scum | |
Me duckin' bullets, lazy bum | |
Lock me out take most of my things | |
Smash the rest in the street as tenacy sings | |
Landlord, I hate you and I hate this place | |
I hate this fuckin' s city, nothing left for me to grace | |
All the tenants rush to collect my things | |
Cigarette walking down the road and I start to sing | |
Landlord won' t renew my lease | |
Pissin' everybody off as their rents increase | |
No grants of funds as promised | |
And this job' s for the fuckin' birds | |
How the hell can I get out of here | |
Well, it sure ain' t flippin' burgers | |
Grown to accept the system and work within the state, but struggling | |
Begging for a check instead of my productivity is quite irate | |
Being scared into believing that we have to make it on our own | |
Accomplishment measured by how much crap we own | |
Like trusting that with hard work all the senators made it there | |
Without the help of midnight basketball and the support of the British Air | |
I' m Irish, not white American male, it' s not the same | |
You try biking on through the West Side just to pay your rent in the rain | |
Looking out the window to see who has the power | |
Is it the whites or blacks or just the gun tower? | |
And we still, we still, we still pay all our dues | |
We still pay all our homage by ignorning their good news | |
And we still, we still, we pledge allegiance there | |
When someone' s almost paid the mortgage, till the system drops its snare |
Here once was a wee shop that an Irishman bought | |
In America, tried and true | |
But imports were scarce when they audit your wares | |
They keep you in court, is it racist or an easy target | |
Well, it' s you! | |
Landlord, landlord, I. O. U. | |
Everyone should see this too | |
Landlord, landlord, thoughtless scum | |
Me duckin' bullets, lazy bum | |
Lock me out take most of my things | |
Smash the rest in the street as tenacy sings | |
Landlord, I hate you and I hate this place | |
I hate this fuckin' s city, nothing left for me to grace | |
All the tenants rush to collect my things | |
Cigarette walking down the road and I start to sing | |
Landlord won' t renew my lease | |
Pissin' everybody off as their rents increase | |
No grants of funds as promised | |
And this job' s for the fuckin' birds | |
How the hell can I get out of here | |
Well, it sure ain' t flippin' burgers | |
Grown to accept the system and work within the state, but struggling | |
Begging for a check instead of my productivity is quite irate | |
Being scared into believing that we have to make it on our own | |
Accomplishment measured by how much crap we own | |
Like trusting that with hard work all the senators made it there | |
Without the help of midnight basketball and the support of the British Air | |
I' m Irish, not white American male, it' s not the same | |
You try biking on through the West Side just to pay your rent in the rain | |
Looking out the window to see who has the power | |
Is it the whites or blacks or just the gun tower? | |
And we still, we still, we still pay all our dues | |
We still pay all our homage by ignorning their good news | |
And we still, we still, we pledge allegiance there | |
When someone' s almost paid the mortgage, till the system drops its snare |