makes you wish that you were me
'cos we got no job for life
build 'em up like frank lloyd wright
no two days turn out the same
only sleeping on the plane
from the back to the front
banshee wailing from my throat
only dogs can hear the notes
be myself to pay the bills
from l.a. to skillmans hill
we've done time for stealing shows
there ain't nothing we don't know
plug us in and watch us go!
we're all about to jump from the back to the front
you're so cool on the inside
you hate being recognised
got a fever and i want to clear my lungs!
coming round for one more go
mosh pit full of casualties
time to even out the score
thought we'd done enough before
now we're kicking down your door
we're barbequeing up for lunch!