Testo Pills - Primal Scream
Testo della canzone Pills (Primal Scream), tratta dall'album Xtrmn8r/Evil Heat
I'm gonna tell the truth, the truth about you
Truth about you, you never been true
You ain't nothin', ain't got nothing to say
Shine a light on you, you fade away, fade away
I'm gonna tell the truth, the truth about you
Truth about you, you never been true
You ain't nothin, ain't got nothing to say
Shine a light on you, you fade away, fade away
I'm gonna tell the truth, the truth about you (woke up, still drunk)
Truth about you, you never been true (throwin' up, pissin' blood)
You ain't nothin', ain't got nothing to say (sick guts, sore skin)
Shine a light on you, you fade away, fade away (burned out, holed in)
I'm gonna tell the truth, the truth about you (can't move, can't speak)
Truth about you, you never been true (cracked head, can't sleep)
You ain't nothin', ain't got nothing to say (ripped up, ripped off)
Shine a light on you, you fade away, fade away (can't crawl, can't walk)
I'm gonna tell the truth, the truth about you (jet plane, blasts off)
Truth about you, you never been true (jet plane, dive bombs)
You ain't nothin', you got nothing to say (bad seed, Goden spleen)
Shine a light on you, you fade away, fade away (bad blood, dead dreams)
I'm gonna tell the truth, the truth about you (sick blood, holed skin)
Truth about you, you never been true (cracked guts, sore speak)
You ain't nothin', ain't got nothing to say (burned head, drunk sleep)
Shine a light on you, you fade away, fade away (can't walk, can't see)
Burned out, holed in
Sick guts, sore skin
Throwin' up, pissin' blood
Woke up, still drunk
Ripped up, ripped off
Can't crawl, can't walk
Jet plane, blasts off
Jet plane, dive bombs
Bad seed, golden spleen (another cash in)
Bad blood, dead dreams (you're such a narcoleptic)
Dead dreams, dead dreams (such a scenic syphilitic, psycho-parastic)
Sub-mosquito, sick-libido
Fucked up, you're a sick
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
Sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick
Sick, fuck, fuck, sick, fuck, fuck
Sick, fuck, fuck, sick, fuck, fuck
Sick, fuck, fuck, sick, fuck, fuck
Sick, fuck, fuck, sick, fuck, fuck
Sick, fuck, fuck
Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Colin Innes, Bobby Gillespie
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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