Mr. Perfecto

You want fame
But without the rolling pain
So you took the easy route
A garage band
That brings you really no food

You're Mr. Perfecto who knows all the chords
With that you think
That you will win your own horde

Can't you understand

All I'm saying
Get your head out of your ass
What people want
You've got none
Before you know it, you will be done

Now you're on the side line
Watching them play
Thinking what do they got
As you're not the same

Watching them play
Staying away
This isn't your Sunday game
Can't you understand

No you don't understand
Really it's an alien band
They're really not so good
But people still got their wood

Don't need just the skill
You need to bring the thrill
Make their heads ill
Make them swallow your pill...

Bring them thunder
Bring them rock
Make their asses yours
'Til they fall on the floor...



Credits
Writer(s): Sasa Senger
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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