You're so out of it You can't give a speech You're so wasted Your brain cell won't think Your eyes are shocking pink Your lips are ruby red Wouldn't it be better If we were peanut butter On a moldy piece of bread Knowing that the angels will soon Let loose the winds of dread Die wicked generation Uttered an angel from the sky Die wicked generation For this is the close of your game of destruction You vote for a president That decides full of flaws Anti-christ government That's the way it's gonna be You must fight for your rights Against a polititian most of all When they won't listen Happy birthyear judgement day Death has won the race So let us all embrace Die wicked generation Uttered an angel from the sky Die wicked generation For this is the close of your game of destruction Game of destruction, yeah yeah !...
© Fishbone