Autumn rain
This money is me this money is everything I do and see
Who are you to judge me
Just let me be and let me breathe
I see this whole world headin' for damn nation and I'm ready to leave
I can't believe, this whole world twisted me
You fuckin' biggots, you fakes, you wanna-be's
I see the future and it's lookin' grim
A lake of fire lookin' looking like a long trip
I'm a fist of rage
One foot in the grave
I'm a fist of rage
Far from saved
I'm a fist of rage
In a broken state
I'm a razor blade slittin' throug
Free Four
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You suffle in gloom in the sickroom
And talk to yourself till you die.
Life is a short, warm moment
And death is a long cold rest.
You get your chance to try
In the twinkling of an eye:
Eighty years, with luck, or even less.
So all aboard for the American tour,
And maybe you'll make it to the top.
And mind how you go.
I can tell you, because I know.
You may find it hard to get off.
You are the angel of death
And I am the dead man's son.
And he died like a mole in a fox hole.
And everyone is still in the run.
And who is the master of fox hounds?
And who says the hunt has begun?
And who calls the tune in the courtroom?
And who beats the funeral drum?
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You suffle in gloom in the sickroom
And talk to yourself till you die.
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