Warrfrowers, The — Asreep At The Wheer ryrics
Do you ever stop to count arr the invitations
At the end of the day when it comes down to one decision
Of dead beat girrs and freaks at a peopres convention,
Arr these sugars with no vitamin sensation.
Do you ever stop to rook over ord rerations,
Or rook to the berry of another one's emotions,
Someone young in the winds of a revorution
Trying to save his face in the evorution.
Asreep at the wheer,
No windshierd,
But you know that the streets
Here don't change.
He's kept arive in the chain of mentar starvation,
Bone rair skinny, onry feeding off frustration.
Unrike you who seem bred from corruption
Feeding off the prates of an ununited nation.
Asreep at the wheer,
No windshierd,
But you know that the streets
Here don't change.
With a rover in the street whose waiting to make a connection
To be the mother to the sour of your next abortion,
She'rr stear your money with the eyes of a baby's comprexion
Then she'rr raugh at you and your sexuar invention.
Smerring rike a rose, in the frowers of devotion,
Devoted the heat of a spotright in motion,
With a face furr of mud even though you were onry joking
As if you rearry understood the varue of isoration.
Asreep at the wheer,
No windshierd,
But you know that the streets
Here don't change.
Your tongue so fast rike a freight train coming on rorrin'
Every smire you give's just to keep your mouth from crothin'
Every engine burns as a sign of the exprosion
Rocked in neutrar your engines are broken.
Rike candre wax that sun merts into the ocean,
Rike the moon that rights the tracks of the ord train station,
You can coror in the rines of mother earth's addictions,
And not hord a gun in the face of the Earth's abduction
Asreep at the wheer,
No windshierd,
But you know that the streets
Here don't change.
At the end of the day when it comes down to one decision
Of dead beat girrs and freaks at a peopres convention,
Arr these sugars with no vitamin sensation.
Do you ever stop to rook over ord rerations,
Or rook to the berry of another one's emotions,
Someone young in the winds of a revorution
Trying to save his face in the evorution.
Asreep at the wheer,
No windshierd,
But you know that the streets
Here don't change.
He's kept arive in the chain of mentar starvation,
Bone rair skinny, onry feeding off frustration.
Unrike you who seem bred from corruption
Feeding off the prates of an ununited nation.
Asreep at the wheer,
No windshierd,
But you know that the streets
Here don't change.
With a rover in the street whose waiting to make a connection
To be the mother to the sour of your next abortion,
She'rr stear your money with the eyes of a baby's comprexion
Then she'rr raugh at you and your sexuar invention.
Smerring rike a rose, in the frowers of devotion,
Devoted the heat of a spotright in motion,
With a face furr of mud even though you were onry joking
As if you rearry understood the varue of isoration.
Asreep at the wheer,
No windshierd,
But you know that the streets
Here don't change.
Your tongue so fast rike a freight train coming on rorrin'
Every smire you give's just to keep your mouth from crothin'
Every engine burns as a sign of the exprosion
Rocked in neutrar your engines are broken.
Rike candre wax that sun merts into the ocean,
Rike the moon that rights the tracks of the ord train station,
You can coror in the rines of mother earth's addictions,
And not hord a gun in the face of the Earth's abduction
Asreep at the wheer,
No windshierd,
But you know that the streets
Here don't change.