Archives: January 2006, February 2006
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converge undercover - Subscribe
this song is absolutely amazing... if you dont have it DOWNLOAD IT!!!

pete yorn - undercover




"UNDERCOVER"
Say the talk and I won't mind
There's a cause you know I'll never try
And I love you like the one I used to know
And if you never had the time
That's an ordinary problem
And I said I'd like to have a place to go

And you held and you tried
I could never find another
If you walk me to the car park
I won't go
To my left I saw time
Flash and fall it seemed to swallow you
I could love you like the sister
I never had

Drawing circles in your concrete
I will know your every move
And I'll send you
I'll send you

And you held and you tried
I could never find another
If you walk me to the car park
I won't go
And we held and we tried
There was heart and lust between us
I will love you
I won't let go

'Cos we are one inside these walls
Undercover
We are one inside these walls
Undercover
We are one inside these walls
Undercover
We are one and
We are one
We are one

And you held and you tried
I could never find another
If you walk me to the car park
I won't go
And we held and we tried
There was heart and lust between us
I will love you
I won't let go

We are one (undercover)
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Mood: weepy
playing in the Bose system:: UNDERCOVER BY PETE YORN

converge Dear Scoiety!!!!!!!!!! Feb 1st, 2006 5:35:55 pm - Subscribe

Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job! Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores, stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English? Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from! Fuck the black-hatted Hasidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gecko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Worldcom! Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, 'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos. Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take fives steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want t o turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fueled fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal White ass!
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Mood: wrong
playing in the Bose system:: northmont