Bolt-lock your doors, alarm your cars And still we move in closer every day Top of the list is your smiling kids But we'll be smiling too, so that's okay
I need you simple words But words which had never been heard By the soul, stoned to death But still living And so he froze where he stood And he looked
me With my hands on my head I flop on your bed With a head full of dread For all I've ever said Maladjusted, maladjusted Maladjusted, maladjusted Never
Papa Jack wants to turn back the clock And reach out to the kids he once had Who have flown Papa Jack in decline feels inclined To reach out to the kids
Satan rejected my soul He knows my kind, he won't be dragged down He's seen my face around He knows heaven doesn't seem to be my home So I must find
I know these roads Each ridge and narrow bridge Each Chevron enticing me on Each warning sign, I take in my stride I don't need more ammunition I've
So the choice I have made May seem strange to you But who asked you anyway? It's my life to wreck My own way You see, to someone, somewhere, oh yeah
Legalized theft leaves me bereft I get it straight in the neck (Somehow expecting no less) A court of justice with no use for truth Lawyer, liar, lawyer
Trouble loves me Trouble needs me Two things more than you do Or would attempt to So, console me Otherwise, hold me Just when it seems like Everything
Go on He's romancing you And chancing his arm He'll be here Smiling on time He's romancing you And chancing his arm He'll be here Smiling on time Roy
Download something useful or useless Because I'm lying here wide to receive Almost anything you'd care to give And I don't get along with myself And
With my hands on my head I flop on your bed With a head full of dread For all I've ever said Maladjusted, maladjusted Maladjusted maladjusted Never
翻訳: モリッシー. 不適応.
: So : the choice I have made May seem strange to you But who asked you, anyway ? It's my life to wreck My own way You see : to someone, somewhere
: Trouble loves me Trouble needs me Two things More than you do Or would attempt to So, console me Otherwise, hold me Just when it seems like
: Papa Jack Wants to turn Back the clock And reach out To the kids He once had Who have flown Papa Jack In decline Feels inclined To reach
: I know these roads Each ridge And narrow bridge Each cheveron Enticing me on Each warning sign I take in my stride I don't need more ammunition