Rain ammunition
The foreign prey
Winter is rapt
And it's a cold, bitter trap
Ride away
Lose the virgin tribe (yeah)
Lady, you're the Fort Ham of your dress
No one will lay it, and no one will say it
Kids are like a wild, deery game
Tough shank legs will never be the same (wah!)
Fashion
Pass...
Passion
There's a troop
He's not plural, he's
Dropped off by a desert shack
Shandy Town, look at your lime sparks
Under the tree
She falls like a leaf
(flutter...)
Stay on the primal scream track
Rave up your fortune
The miners will help you get back (back, back, back)
What they took away in '82