Tekst:
Motley Crue Supersonic And Demonic Relics

: Broke dick dog My head slung low Tail knocked in the dirt Time and time of being told Trash is all I'm worth When I was just a young boy Had to take

Machine She's in the driver's seat Feel her shift the gears I like to fill her up I like to fill her with sin Drive her straight to the top There and

holiday, hooligan's holiday. I'm on a holiday, hooligan's. I gotta get away, hooligan's holiday. We're on a holiday, hooligan's. Modern times and new

father without a son? It's like a bullet without a gun I live to die, I'll fly away You're the knife and I'm the prey But you're dead, so fucking

the U.S.A. Or just another country Some other fuckin' country And I, wanna be, anarchy Oh I wanna fuckin' hear it man And I, wanna be, anarchy Let's say it again boys And

: I'm havnig a bad trip (hahaha) Myflower in my hair just wilted I just let my mike fall, drat Charlie Manson is my hero I'm going to live with Hendrix

: I said dance, I said prance Sleazing in like a monkey That's cool, I say it's gross Honey so damn funky Dance to the rhythm Jungle music rhythm So

Rat-tailed Jimmy is a second hand hood He deals out in Hollywood Got a '65 Chevy, primered flames Traded for some powdered goods Jigsaw Jimmy He's runnin

holiday, hooligan's holiday. I'm on a holiday, hooligan's. I gotta get away, hooligan's holiday. We're on a holiday, hooligan's. Modern times and new