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Death Or Glory
Every cheap hood strikes a Bargain with the world And ends up making payments on a Sofa or a girl Love 'n' hate tattooed across the knuckles of his hands The hands that slap his kids around 'cause they don't understand How death or glory becomes just another story
'N' every gimmick hungry yob digging gold from rock 'n' roll Grabs the mike to tell us he'll die before he's sold But i believe in this-and it's been tested by research That he who fucks nun will later join the church
>From every dingy basement on every dingy street I hear every dragging handclap over every dragging beat That's just the beat of time-the beat that must go on If you been trying for years-then we already heard your song
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