D.R.I. (Dirty Rotten Imbeciles)


Composição: Brecht

Question marks in my head
My mouth cried and my eyes bled
I stretched my thoughts, put them on the rack
In a mind so dark it's almost black
Strategy, strategy
These distorted, contorted ideas of mine
Are telling me something, i think it's a sign
Hidden meanings found deep within
Brought forth with the tip of a pen
Then all these thoughts are on display
Part of my lifetime strategy
Strategy, strategy

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