Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wolves On The Street, artist - Waltari. Album song Space Avenue, in the genre ИндастриалDate of issue: 31.12.1996
Record label: EMI Germany
Song language: English
Wolves On The Street |
| «I think they don’t want 'cha |
| Seeing to mucha, digging grave» |
| Rave- save me form being pale |
| Lay me down on your knees, squeeze |
| Coz I can’t get what I need, this is |
| Reality |
| Driven by stupidity, raising my family |
| My throat feels hoarse (scene) |
| Shouting at the doors, cleaning womit from |
| My floors the alien (without a cause) knows laws |
| (slow down, slow down…) |
| You know that I come a place full of disgrace |
| Danger creeps in every corner, boredom is |
| Not your border |
| The cold burn in your cheek, no place to weep |
| Your home is like uriah heep, fright’s your |
| Only weapon |
| You’re like searching for the treasure at |
| The rainbow’s end |
| Pain is your friend |
| Physically mentally, you run with the |
| Wolves with only stoneage tools |
| Away from luxury, you need peace |
| Yo, you live surrounded by colorful trees |
| But without leaves, man |
| Full autumn breeze |
| Wolves on the streets |
| I’m always ragged, you don’t want me now |
| Full autumn breeze |
| Colorful trees |
| I’m always ragged, please don’t want me now |
| Yo man, you know I have a jacket made from |
| My blanket |
| Crawling against the north wind, against the chill |
| It is time for a pill or a pint of beer |
| Makes my frozen hand to rouch you closer |
| To your breakfast filled with mother’s milk- |
| Silk of your sweetnes |
| Coz I’m shy it makes me cry on my wooden |
| Table, with a pint |
| In my hand I recognize: my turntable is |
| Frozen, but my god: I should be chosen |
| Full autumn breeze |
| Wolves on the streets |
| I’m always ragged, you don’t want me now |
| Full autumn breeze |
| Far from your squeeze |
| I’m always ragged, please don’t want me now |
| I’m the part of the big bad show |
| I’m the hardened one in the leading role |
| Truding in a muddy sludge |
| The ancient child of an ancient rave |
| «I think they don’t want 'cha, living like |
| Too mucha, you’re cold!» |
| Cold?, But cold is bold, bold makes cold |
| Tell me what was wrong |
| They do not care, they do not know that |
| Here is the truth about the death of Kurt: |
| He needed danger, the coldeness gave the |
| Arranger, the arrangement was power |
| The power was the wind on his cheek |
| Why try to rip off the power of päkä päkä |
| Muffins are always lowest (päkä päkä) |
| I wanna rap in this trap of nature, see my |
| Trees in a colorful breeze |
| I never ever wanted too mucha (except your |
| Toucha) |
| Crawling against the cold gives you a strong bass |
| A branch where those sharp teeth of wolves |
| Won’t hurt |
| That was the death of Kurt |
| He craved it but never got it |
| Everyday life was too hot and burned it |
| (I wonder what’s gonna be inna head, again |
| Me will see, what will be) |
| Full autumn breeze |
| Wind tears the leaves |
| I’m always ragged, please don’t want me now |
| Wolves on the street |
| An ancient breeze |
| I’m forever ragged, no shelter, please |
| I’m the part of a big bad show |
| I’m the hardened one in the leading role |
| I’m truding in a muddy sludge |
| I’m forever ragged, don’t want me now |