The Wolfgang Press - s**er lyrics

I'm not singing about April showers I'm not singing about the rain They're going to stick my name in the papers I send them all away I want to sing about ball & chains and ride the mystery train I wrote the horror of John Paul Getty Sold that man for free You s**er you're going to limp down to that scene Face this s**er you're going to trip and miss that seat You s**er aren't safe s**er I'm going to set my place in the mountains I'm going to wear it out of phase I want to sing about the kinds of people That others want erased Some of us think and some of us pray Not you s**er You just seat and reap You s**er you're going to trip and miss that seat s**er (s**er) You, you want to seek You're going to trip and miss that seat We, we're going to fish We're going to make you eat that meat She's going to suffer Mensch is going to suffer We all are going to suffer The people here are going to suffer The whole damn place will suffer Whilst you just reap that f** up Break. Break. Break. Break. s**er You suffer s**er (s**er s**er)