Guts - Live, Zeche Bochum 06.03.1983

This song is in be flat

The bugger in the short sleeves love my wife
Did it quick and split
Back home, fresh as a daisy to Maisie, oh Maisie
The 12 bore that stood in the corner
Quite operatic in its self-disgust
Blew him all over the living-room floor
Like parrot shit, parrot spit, parrot shit was shot

Now I suppose it was someone familiar
Someone that we all would know
Embarrassing denouement, ne c'est pas?
A familiar hyperbole
And there would go the secret plot
The piss had missed the hole in the pot
Like some ancient teenage dream
From soul to poison, soul to poison soul

Guts, guts, got no guts
And stitches don't help at all
Guts, guts, got no guts
Holes in the body, holes in the head
Holes in the forehead, holes in the legs
Holes in the body, holes in the head
There should never be holes at all
Never be holes at all

So kill all you want or more
Make sure, do it right
Dead is dead and door nails forget
And then you'll notice
How the waster and the wasted
Get to look like one another
In the end, in the end
In the end, in the end

In the end, in the end
In the end, in the end
In the end, in the end
In the end, in the end
In the end, in the end

Thank you very much



Credits
Writer(s): John Davies Cale
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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