Текст песни: Buck 65 - Sore
Vultures and helicopters, overhead I`m breaking down
Used car blues, it`s no time to joke around
The only solution I can think of so far
Is to smash out the windows with a crowbar
And as the headlights shatter into stars one by one
I curse at the road and try to knock out the sun
I kick in the corner panels, son of a whore
The paint starts to chip off as I rip off one of the doors
Same hotel room again with the right mixture
Of terrible smells and dead flies in the light fixture
I listen to the oldies station, half asleep and kind of smokey
Girl in the next room is howling like a coyote
Hand in my pants, feeling like a phyllistine
All eyes empty, every door way a guillotine
I`m drunk on loneliness, out of shape and half eaten
The phone don`t work and God`s in a staff meeting
Out of breath at the end of a long summer
Waiting for a phone call that isn`t a wrong number
A smile from a pretty girl, feet don`t fail me
I sleep like a baby and get out of jail free
I spit my teeth in my hand and read the classifieds
Poke holes in my memories until I`m satisfied
I`m drawn to familiar environments and dangers
I look at my photo albums and all I see are strangers
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Vultures and helicopters, overhead I`m breaking down
Used car blues, it`s no time to joke around
The only solution I can think of so far
Is to smash out the windows with a crowbar
And as the headlights shatter into stars one by one
I curse at the road and try to knock out the sun
I kick in the corner panels, son of a whore
The paint starts to chip off as I rip off one of the doors
Same hotel room again with the right mixture
Of terrible smells and dead flies in the light fixture
I listen to the oldies station, half asleep and kind of smokey
Girl in the next room is howling like a coyote
Hand in my pants, feeling like a phyllistine
All eyes empty, every door way a guillotine
I`m drunk on loneliness, out of shape and half eaten
The phone don`t work and God`s in a staff meeting
Out of breath at the end of a long summer
Waiting for a phone call that isn`t a wrong number
A smile from a pretty girl, feet don`t fail me
I sleep like a baby and get out of jail free
I spit my teeth in my hand and read the classifieds
Poke holes in my memories until I`m satisfied
I`m drawn to familiar environments and dangers
I look at my photo albums and all I see are strangers
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50 Gallon Drum
Attack of the Nerds 2001
Bachelor of Science
Craftsmanship
Devil`s Eyes
Exes
Eye Make-up Excuses
I Look Good
Jaws of Life
Le 65isme
Leftfielder
Man Overboard
On All Fours
Phil (Square 1
Plastic Bags
Protest
Riverbed 1
Riverbed 2
Riverbed 3
Riverbed 4
Riverbed 5
Riverbed 6
Riverbed 7
Roses and Bluejays
Rough House Blues
Skill Saw
Sleep Apnea
Sleep Apnoea
Sore
Sounds From the Back of the Bus
Style 386
Sunday Driver
Synesthesia
The Centaur
The Scenario Song
Tired Out
To Say the Very Least
Track 13
Untitled *
Vertex
Wicked And Weird