Paroles de chanson Undead: We Dont Want the Poor in New York City

We Dont Want the Poor in New York City


(Steele)

I come in, you throw me out
You leave me standing without a doubt
For what you're telling me ain't no use
'Cause all you're giving me is verbal abuse
What I'm hearing ain't no surprise
I'm getting sick of hearing all your lies
You don't listen, you don't see
Don't throw your verbal abuse at me
Verbal abuse, verbal abuse
Verbal abuse
What it does to me
I guess you don't see
You don't even care
This knife in my hand
Makes you understand
I can't take your verbal abuse no more!
Now you're lying in your bed
You ain't moving, it's like I said
Verbal abuse got to my head
Got you, now you're dead
Verbal abuse, verbal abuse
Verbal abuse
What it does to me
I guess you don't see
You don't even care
This knife in my hand
Makes you understand
I can't take your verbal abuse no more!







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