He blew his mind out in a car. He didn’t notice that the lights had changed.
I remember, we were flying low and hit something in the air.
I think about the network news
To torture myself
And to pass the time
Hear tell my seat cushion is a floatation device
Pray to god they ain’t lying
I was siting home alone one night, in L.A., watching old Cronkite on the 7 o’clock news
It seems there was an earthquake that left nothing but a Panama hat
And a pair of old Greek shoes.
Didn’t seem like much was happening, so, I turned it off and went to grab another beer.
Seems like every time you turn around, there’s another hard-luck story that you’re gonna hear.
And there’s really nothing anyone can say.
We just get by however we can
We all gotta duck when the shit hits the fan.
You know that I can surely see that I don’t want to get caught up in any of that funky shit goin’ down in the city.
Well the South side of Chicago
Is the baddest part of town
And if you go down there
You better just beware
Of a man named Leroy Brown
The Barkeep said “I heard your name dow the way
and I kick motherfucking asses like yours everyday.”
Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!
There’s a knockout at the bar fight
Chug a 40 and the bloody street
And we’ll stumble, to the rumble
We’re all laughing when your ass gets beat
Lovely anger, live for the rage
Unspoken hatred and it’s oh so sweet
I ain’t promoting, I’m just condoning
And you’re dead meat
Riot! The unbeatable high
Riot! Sends your nerves to the sky
Riot! playing right into their hands
Tomorrow you’re homeless, tonight it’s a blast!!!
There’s a free-for-all in the parking lot. Who will rule the street?
And the night explodes when the cops bring down the heat.
And the chains, they clash like thunder , while the weak ones all retreat.
Got to draw first blood,or they’ll read your funeral rite.
Somebody got murdered, his name cannot be found
Bloodstain on the pavement, scrub it from the ground
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
How long, how long must we sing this song?
Don’t worry that it’s not good enough
For anyone else to hear
Just sing, sing a song
This song wants to sleep with you. This song’s gonna sleep with you tonight.
This is the last song I’ll ever write for you.
Make no mistake my friend, your pointless life will end
But before you go, come and look at the show
You’ve got a lovely singing voice
You’re so vain!
You probably think this song is about you.
You shouldn’t come around here
Singing up at people like that
Anyway, what’cha gonna do about it?
What’ll I do with just a photograph
To tell my troubles to?