__________________ From the b***s of Hancock's junior's to the shores of misery, we will curse our country's leaders cross the stars on land and sea, first to fight the distant corporate wars, spill our blood for a sheaf of green, we will do or die, we ask not why cuz we're colonial marines!
Last edited by Lighthammer on Oct 17th, 2006 at 07:29 PM
__________________ From the b***s of Hancock's junior's to the shores of misery, we will curse our country's leaders cross the stars on land and sea, first to fight the distant corporate wars, spill our blood for a sheaf of green, we will do or die, we ask not why cuz we're colonial marines!
__________________ From the b***s of Hancock's junior's to the shores of misery, we will curse our country's leaders cross the stars on land and sea, first to fight the distant corporate wars, spill our blood for a sheaf of green, we will do or die, we ask not why cuz we're colonial marines!
__________________ From the b***s of Hancock's junior's to the shores of misery, we will curse our country's leaders cross the stars on land and sea, first to fight the distant corporate wars, spill our blood for a sheaf of green, we will do or die, we ask not why cuz we're colonial marines!
__________________
It's an image worth pondering for a moment. Maybe, when you cut past the instrumental and songwriting virtuosity, the funny voices and characters, what is left is a man alone in his recording studio for days at a time.