Ik bin ni perfect, ik heb zomien kuure. Heb ik enne slechten daag, hedde hi w te verduure. Ge m meej ni vertelle, hoe d ik m laeve. D ik nde kerk m goan, en woa ik um m gaeve.
A bag full of stories, it's all I have got. But I'm not onhappy, oh no I am not. Live out of a suitcase, but i like it a lot. A bag full of stories, it's all I have got.
She's scared, he's home again. Like in a war she makes her plan. But no matter what she will try. . He's drunk and he's mad. About something she never said.
Help, help, ik word hartstikke gek!. Ik communiceer mezelf over m'n nek. Een e-mailtje hier en een voicemailtje daar. Ik internet, bel en fax door elkaar.
There comes a day that I will be six feet under. I'm playing guitar in the Empire Of The Dead then. Friends will cry, flowers decorate my coffin. But how long will it take, until no one will miss me?.
I see your perfect body and your face. You think you're the perfect human race. But you are nothing than a fool who is just acting cool. You plastic-surgery-face!.
It's no lie, I say it right in your face. The time has come no place for disgrace. I'm sick of all the lies that you tell. So take a deep breath and wake up in hell.
The elderly association from Klazienaratjetoe(*1). They got a note, they were invited to come on TV. With a full bus to the 'Vakantieman'(*2). They made it a nice and cosy day.
Too many things I like to say. Too many things are wrong today. Too many wars I wanna stop. Too many kids will be fucked up. . Does it make a difference?.
I'm a hippie, and I'm always happy. I'm a hippie, and I'm always happy. No drugs just peace, that's what I say. I'm a hippie, and I'm always happy. . (CHORUS).
A bag full of stories. It's all I have got. But I'm not unhappy oh no I'm not. I live out of a suitcase but I like it a lot. A bag full of stories, it's all I have got.
Whenever I feel I cannot go on. At a point when all my spirit is gone. I know what gets my head up high again. . When I see the world with troubled eyes.
Love songs, I used to hate that shit. But I find out, just bit by bit. They're stupid, silly, but they're true. So many cliches I never knew. Most love songs, they really suck.
You wouldnt believe in my new belle. She flits and weaves a curious spell. And under my skin is a place where she resides. Finding a release in prayers and Psalms.
Don't flake out on me. Oh, you promised you'd write before Easter. And now you damn well know that it's autumn. And I missed you through those summer months.
On nights like this. When the world's a bit amiss. And the lights go down across the trailer park. I get down, I feel had. I feel on the verge of going mad.
You know the sun is in your eyes. And hurricanes and rains. And black and cloudy skies. . You're running up and down that hill. You turn it on and off at will.
You know the sun is in your eyes. And hurricanes and rain. And black and cloudy skies. . You're running up and down that hill. You turn it on and off at will.
Look what you've done, you gigolo. You know that I loved your hon and I didn't wanna know. That your cool, seductive serenade. Was a tool of your trade, you gigolo.
Don't you know me Kansas city. I'm the New Berlin wall. Try and tear me down. . I was born on the other side. Of a town ripped in two. I made it over the great devide.