You gotta fight 'm one on one Of course I remember back in the days When I was a young kid looking for ways To protect myself from falling down Into
Ze drinkt koffie met haar buurvrouw dagelijks van één tot twee Of zij The Bold ook heeft gezien, gisteravond op t.v. Maar buurvrouw heeft
Life's just a one way ticket But your destination is unknown Some pay the full ride but just get A journey ending in the very first zone They fight, hard
I'm hurt, it nails me down, see this grown man cry My world stopped turning and all I can ask is "why?" I could forgive you confess here and now
If the trees in former Yugoslavia could talk they could tell you a little story A story you don't wanna hear, a story of hate, aggression, rape and
Opa was tachtig, fysiek nog heel sterk Ging elke zondag te voet van huis naar kerk Dagen zat hij voor het raam, hij groette iedereen Altijd kinderen over
Sun is shining on my head, but it's a rainy day I'm just walking around and I got nothing to say I feel so weird but I'm not even drunk Everybody
't is genoeg, dit is de limiet Al die stress, ik trek 't niet Vandaag kunnen jullie de pleuris krijgen Niemand hier brengt mij tot zwijgen Je zegt dat
Sunday morning, at transport Warping up with escort I'll put my fist in front I'm alone but singing together Even if I need to pull for hours The will
I know things I feel things I see things I can never speak out loud I know things I feel things I see things I can never speak out loud (3x) They haunt
Whenever I feel I cannot go on At a point when all my spirit is gone I know what gets my head up high again When I see the world with troubled eyes
Love songs, I used to hate that shit But I find out, just bit by bit They're stupid, silly, but they're true So many cliches I never knew Most love
A bag full of stories It's all I have got But I'm not unhappy oh no I'm not I live out of a suitcase but I like it a lot A bag full of stories, it's all
Help, help, ik word hartstikke gek! Ik communiceer mezelf over m'n nek Een e-mailtje hier en een voicemailtje daar Ik internet, bel en fax door elkaar
There comes a day that I will be six feet under I'm playing guitar in the Empire Of The Dead then Friends will cry, flowers decorate my coffin But how
Too many things I like to say Too many things are wrong today Too many wars I wanna stop Too many kids will be fucked up Does it make a difference
A bag full of stories, it's all I have got But I'm not onhappy, oh no I am not Live out of a suitcase, but i like it a lot A bag full of stories, it's
She's scared, he's home again Like in a war she makes her plan But no matter what she will try He's drunk and he's mad About something she never said
