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  • Текст песни Butch Walker And The Black Widows - Bullet Belt

    Исполнитель: Butch Walker And The Black Widows
    Название песни: Bullet Belt
    Дата добавления: 17.06.2016 | 15:23:57
    Просмотров: 10
    0 чел. считают текст песни верным
    0 чел. считают текст песни неверным
    Тут расположен текст песни (слова песни) Butch Walker And The Black Widows - Bullet Belt, перевод и видео (клип).
    Hey Daddy tell me 'bout the time you had to go to jail for smokin' pot
    An Iron Maiden concert in a Carolina parking lot
    Whoa
    And when you had to listen to recordings on a record player
    And your band all had to plug into a little amplifier
    Just to hear over the drums,
    Hear over the drums,
    I can only hear the drums,
    I can only hear the drums.

    Well 1969 to 1977
    It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11
    Stayin' out all night
    While we kept our engines revvin'
    And we'd never make it home before dawn...
    Maybe...
    I'm not that crazy
    I'm just playing with the hand I was dealt
    Maybe...
    I'm not that crazy
    I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt.

    Hey momma tell me bout the time you would sneak out of your window
    And meet up with your other friends and smoke your cigarettes
    And blow the smoke into another girl's mouth
    Whoa
    And when you drove across the country
    With your stoner friends all in a van
    To fill up all your mason jars with the California sand
    California sand, California sand
    California, California, California sand

    Well 1969 to 1977
    It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11
    Stayin' out all night
    While we kept our engines revvin'
    And we'd never make it home before dawn...
    Hair dyed black,
    A walking marshall stack
    We'd play all night shows behind the chicken shack
    Sittin' back to back,
    We were a heart attack'
    Givin' the finger to the cops on the lawn
    Maybe...
    I'm not that crazy
    I'm just playin' with the hand I was dealt
    Maybe...
    I'm not that crazy
    I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt

    Well 1969 to 1977
    It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11
    Stayin' out all night
    While we kept our engines revvin'
    And we'd never make it home before dawn...
    Hair dyed black,
    A walking marshall stack
    We'd play all night shows behind the chicken shack
    Sittin' back to back,
    We were a heart attack'
    Givin' the finger to the cops on the lawn
    Maybe...
    I'm not that crazy
    I'm just playin' with the hand I was dealt
    Maybe...
    I'm not that crazy
    I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt
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