The Torment

Let let let
Let them go just like they should I don’t give a damn
Papa done told 'em too much on becoming a man
Missed out all points and the fevers keep raising hell on earth
No one will tell you «man, the mark is since birth»
I bet someone’s burning your bed, nevermind the heat, just keep it up with your
dreaming instead
This is the prime time broadcast from «Web-Radio Gutter»
Killer track transmitter through objective disorder
Obsessive compulsive selectors musical horders
Time for a massive routine distractor for lovers
I bet someone’s burning your bed
Nevermind the heat, just keep it up with your dreaming instead
So gather all the hate, and spit it to each others face, sleeves stay down,
unless you reach out for the ace
But it’s way past your bedtime son, mommy won’t find a trace
Mommy won’t ever tell you, that you don’t really have a race