In dreams I can rule your life
With me nothing's ever right
Sing for me up on a stage
Keep your mind trapped in a cage
I'm your man I'm what you need
Dance with me but never lead
One deep breath will set me free
Don't you fuckin' look at me
You know that I am...

One fuckin' well dressed man!

Now it's dark, but I can see
Don't you fuckin' look at me
Now it's dark, your gonna be
Exactly what I want to see
Now it's dark, Mommy
Don't you fuckin' look at me

A sensation
Of elation
Intoxication
Now it's dark

A candy coated existence
Underneath is decadence
What was hidden you have found
Made it your own battleground
Pretty, pretty don't say please
Don't you fuckin' look at me
You know that I am...

One fuckin' well dressed man!

Now it's dark, but I can see
Don't you fuckin' look at me
Now it's dark, your gonna be
Exactly what I want to see
Now it's dark, Mommy
Don't you fuckin' look at me

I'll send you a love letter
Straight from the bottom of my heart
You'll be fucked forever
The candy coated clown's done his part

I'm your man I'm what you need
Dance with me but never lead
One deep breath will set me free
Don't you fuckin' look at me
You know that I am...
				

Trust's song (French Version)

Tu bosses toute ta vie pour payer ta pierre tombale,
Tu masques ton visage en lisant ton journal,
Tu marches tel un robot dans les couloirs du métro.
Les gens ne te touchent pas, il faut faire le premier pas.
Tu voudrais dialoguer sans renvoyer la balle.
Impossible d'avancer sans ton gilet pare-balles.
Tu voudrais donner des yeux à la justice
Impossible de violer cette femme pleine de vices.

Antisocial, tu perds ton sang-froid.
Repense à toutes ces années de service.
Antisocial, bientôt les années de sévices,
Enfin, le temps perdu qu'on ne rattrape plus.

Ecraser les gens est devenu ton passe-temps.
En les éclaboussant, tu deviens gênant.
Dans ton désespoir, il reste un peu d'espoir
Celui de voir les gens sans fard et moins bâtards.
Mais cesse de faire le point, serre plutôt les poings,
Bouge de ta retraite, ta conduite est trop parfaite
Relève la gueule, je suis là, t'es pas seul
Ceux qui hier t'enviaient, aujourd'hui te jugeraient.

Antisocial, tu perds ton sang-froid.
Repense à toutes ces années de service.
Antisocial, bientôt les années de sévices,
Enfin, le temps perdu qu'on ne rattrape plus.

Tu bosses toute ta vie pour payer ta pierre tombale,
Tu masques ton visage en lisant ton journal,
Tu marches tel un robot dans les couloirs du métro.
Les gens ne te touchent pas, il faut faire le premier pas.
Tu voudrais dialoguer sans renvoyer la balle.
Impossible d'avancer sans ton gilet pare-balles.
Tu voudrais donner des yeux à la justice
Impossible de violer cette femme pleine de vices.

Antisocial, antisocial, antisocial, antisocial...
				

Sex Pistols's song

There was a bunch of roadies
And this here is their story
A scurvy bunch of evil twits
Who never say they're sorry

They've traveled cross the nations
Fuckin' paid vacations
We love the schism that they make
They're here for the duration

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do

The captains name is Rick
Whose "Bozo-do" is slick
He really thinks he knows it all
He's just a Jersey hick

Wanking, cranking, Georgie
He always finds an orgy
He rubs his balls and picks his nose
He's horny Georgie porgie

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do

The kind of sleaze is Ring
Polaroid's his thing
He whipped it out, her teeth fell out
And now it's in a sling

From LA we have Troy
His fetish is Playboy
A smelly trout, he'll eat it out
Go wash your hands you're M.O.I.

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do

John Tempesta is The Joker
The Adams apple choker
Sandra Bernhard is his twin
He'd probably even poke her

The B-boy was John Rooney
He was a fuckin' loony
He does a rap, he thinks he's black
He's soft like Gerry Cooney

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do

Yo my name is Bill
Dur, bouncing is my skill, duh,
Smoke ten packs and use my plaque
Duh, with my breath I'll kill

Thursby is the lard ass
The monitors are his task
The sound they made when the band played
Was like Ed Trunk with bad gas

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do

The photobug is Ambo
He'll fill up any hairy hole
We'll blindfold you with dental floss
You burnt out fuckin' bimbo

The bottom line is Z
Oh please don't sit on me
Go wipe your hemorrhoid ridden butt
You 1960's hippie!

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do

This here was the story
About our fuckin' roadies
A scurvy bunch of evil twits
Who never say they're sorry
They've traveled cross the nations
Fuckin' paid vacations
We love the schism that they make
They're here for the duration

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do
				

Kiss's song

She'll always be there trying to grab a hold
She thought she knew me, but she didn't know
That I was sad and wanted her to go

Parasite lady
Parasite eyes
Parasite lady
No need to cry

I didn't wanna have to get away
I told her things I didn't want to say
I need her and I hope she'll understand

Parasite lady
Parasite eyes
Parasite lady
No need to cry
				

Trust's song

"1,2,3,4"

[Verse 1]
Like the last of the Mohicans
You acted like bloody pagans
So let the bells ring
Rejoice and sing

[Chorus 1]
Jim Jones, where did you come from?
Jim Jones, was it for fun?
Jim Jones, is that your name?
Jim Jones, a silent death

[Verse 2]
Religious sects and promised lands
Are you ready for the gods?
Martyrs, killers holding hands
Did not fight the odds
The dying angel said, "Drink up"
"Be merry and be dead!"

[Chorus 1]
Jim Jones, where did you come from?
Jim Jones, was it for fun?
Jim Jones, is that your name?
Jim Jones, you died for fame
You might also like
Belly of the Beast
Anthrax
Pipeline
Anthrax
Caught in a Mosh
Anthrax
[Bridge]
Murder
Murder
Murder
The zero hero

[Guitar solo]

[Verse 3]
Walk on them like insects
Gamble with death for a joke
Mercenary disciples
With bibles and rifles
In the temple of the people
A doomsday book of evil
No poster hanging high
I die, you die, don't ask why

[Chorus 2]
I die, you die, don't ask why
I die, you die, don't ask why
I die, you die, don't ask why
I die, you die, don't ask why

I die, you die, don't ask why
I die, you die, don't ask why
I die, you die, don't ask why
[Laughs]
[Outro]
I die, you die
				

The Chantays's song

[Instrumental]