1. |
Mr. Hyde
02:59
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2. |
Falcor
03:47
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3. |
Smut
02:56
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|
Smut-
Savoring every breath that hits your neck.
Isn't hot and heavy how you like it?
Chills running down your spine.
As your nails cut down mine.
Passion, love, and a whole mess of hate,
I hunger for you, not enough on this plate.
Savoring every breath that hits your neck.
Isn't hot and heavy how you like it?
Gasping for air with a fistful of hair,
Oh yeah. We're almost there.
I feel you quiver against my finger tips,
Slowly closin' your eyes.
I watch you bite down on your lip,
As my gaze disappears between your thighs...
When this mess is made I'll gladly take the blame.
Sinking my teeth deeper and deeper...
No need to be quiet baby,
Let them all know my name.
Scream it. Scream it. Scream it.
Shout it. Shout it. Shout it.
The monsters in our loins are tired of being tamed.
I'm the gasoline. You're the spark. Let's make some flames.
Slammed against the wall, the clothes continue to fall.
You smirk lookin' up at me before you take it all...
I'll carve my name into you.
You'll never forget.
The way I loved you is how I fucked you.
I'm simply the best.
So ride it girl, you know you came for the horns.
We're both seeing red when the sweat pours.
Tearing these sheets up, rocking back and forth.
Gone by sunrise but she always comes... back for more.
Savoring every breath that hits your neck.
Isn't hot and heavy how you like it?
So the morning comes,
And I'm home alone again,
Take a shot of the Captain.
And wait for tomorrow night to begin.
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4. |
Last Call
03:38
|
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|
Last Call-
Empty cans litter the room.
Cigarette smoke too thick to see through.
It's our home away from the shit in our lives.
It's the one place we can go to clear out our minds.
Regrets, poor choices, the pain we hold inside.
Belt our voices, it's fuckin' jam time.
We slam. We jam. We play.
We slam. We jam. We play.
We slam. We jam. We play.
With us there's one goal.
We came to put on a show.
And now that you all know,
Go ahead and let your heads roll.
We're all slaves to the game,
A bunch of addicts to the stage.
I said we're all slaves to the game.
We all live for these days.
Are you ready?
It's about to get heavy.
Are you ready?
Then bang your heads with me.
This is our vice.
Second thoughts nowhere to be found.
This is our time.
We'll keep going when the clock runs out.
We're all slaves to the game,
A bunch of addicts to the stage.
I said we're all slaves to the game.
We all live for these days.
Is it still in you?
Still got the urge to move?
Is it still in you?
Then rock out like we do.
This vice is our friend.
The one there with us when we fall.
And it looks like the end.
LAST CALL!!!
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Anabus3 Oelwein, Iowa
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