Tekstovi: Dad. No Fuel Left For The Pilgrims. Ill Will.

What we need isn't systems
Or regulating plans
But bigger guns to shoot with
And a bigger type of man
Ill will

For good or ill, my iron will
Is unrivaled, still evil ill thrill
This is the curse to me and my friends
Ill will, no patterns, no sense

I hate mental exercise
Thinking gives me pain
I know people don't turn out
That way today but here we go again, ohh
Ill will, ill will

For good or ill, my iron will
Is unrivaled, still evil ill thrill
This is the curse to me and my friends
Ill will, no patterns, no sense

Rock'n'roll
Yeah, ill will