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    Manic Street Preachers »

    Manic Street Preachers Yes текст песни

    Yes

    For sale
    Dumb cunt’s same dumb questions
    Oh virgins
    Listen all virgins are liars honey

    And I don’t know what I’m scared of
    Or what I even enjoy
    Dulling get money
    But nothing turns out like you want it to

    And in these plagued streets
    Of pity you can buy anything
    For $200 anyone can conceive a god on video

    He’s a boy
    You want a girl so tear off his cock
    Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him
    Call him Rita if you want

    I eat and I dress and I wash
    And I still can say thank you
    Puking, shaking, sinking
    I still stand for old ladies
    Can’t shout, can’t scream
    Hurt myself to get pain out

    I ‘T’ them, 24:7, all year long
    Purgatory’s circle, drowning here
    Someone will always say yes

    Funny place for the social
    For the insects to start caring
    Just an ambulance at the bottom of a cliff

    In these plagued streets
    Of pity you can by anything
    For $200 anyone can conceive a god on video

    He’s a boy
    You want a girl so tear off his cock
    Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him
    Call him Rita if you want, if you want

    I eat and I dress and I wash
    And I can still say thank you
    Puking, shaking, sinking
    I still stand for old ladies
    Can’t shout, can’t scream
    I hurt myself to get pain out

    Power produces desire
    The weak have none
    There’s no lust in this coma
    Even for a fifty
    Solitude, solitude
    The 11th commandment

    The only certain thing
    That is left about me
    There’s no part of my body
    That has not been used

    Pity or pain
    To show displeasure’s shame
    Everyone I’ve loved or hated
    Always seems to leave

    And in these plagued streets
    Of pity you can buy anything
    For $200 anyone can conceive a god on video

    He’s a boy
    You want a girl so tear off his cock
    Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him
    Call him Rita if you want, if you want

    Power produces desire
    The weak have none
    There’s no lust in this coma
    Even for a fifty
    Solitude, solitude
    The 11th commandment

    Don’t hurt, just obey
    Lie down, do as they say
    May as well be heaven
    This hell smells the same
    These sunless afternoons
    I can’t find myself



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