Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Clean Living , by - Children of the Damned. Release date: 31.05.2007
Song language: English
Clean Living |
| {Verse 1: Flash 4Dem] |
| Yo, you make me fuckin' sick to the tooth |
| Fake MC’s, I’d rather amputate my feet than kick it with you |
| Belligerent, rude, walking, talking definition of fool |
| In my incapable hands nothing’s idiot proof (Ha!) |
| A qualified prick with references from everyone I ever did wrong |
| Fuck gettin' a job! |
| Over-proud penniless slob, gettin' stoned on the dole |
| The lights are on but nobodies home, I’m pneumonia cold |
| Openly broke, my heart was sold with my soul |
| My life on th whole is an inappropriate joke |
| I’m holdin' my nos, tokin' a bone |
| And blowin' the smoke out through the hole in my throat, low and behold |
| I’m fucked… I roll to my shows |
| With a band of drunken cronies in tow |
| COTD, paving the way for the lazy unpaid |
| Hardcore, and we ain’t changing our ways, fuck radio play! |
| Yo, I blaze a bag while you pray in mass |
| In open mic night, I spit on the nice guy that came in last |
| A maniac, I’ll throw your dog a grenade to catch |
| Flash 4Dem, still functioning with my brain detached |
| No need for bourbon or madness to learn I’m a wanker |
| When spoken about, I’m often referred to as bastard |
| I ain’t preparing for landing |
| I’m too high ??? |
| harrassing my pockets for emergency rations |
| I’m dirty and rancid coz I’ve never heard what a bath is |
| Got too many bad personal habits |
| My brains sustained irreversible damage |
| When surgically planted, over the top with affirmative action |
| ?? |
| the bride, I crash the happiest day of her life |
| Turn it to sadness, permanent anguish |
| ??? |
| with the groom in a hearse to the marriage |
| When I roll to the church, eternally disturbing the parish |
| I’m stupidly ill |
| Sat in a room consuming a ??? |
| that I’ve filled with with shrooms for a meal |
| LSD diluted with milk, satsumas and pills |
| Deluded, lickin' the floor, collecting the juice that I’ve spilled |
| Causing feuds with my will |
| Laughin' in my grave, none of the jewellery’s real, all I’ve left them is |
| numerous bills |
| Kidnap Jack on his route to the hill |
| And profit off it when I make a prostitute out of Jill |