Spikes To You
'A' frames, statuettes, sunset magazine, they're lining up to do their jobs
But I swear to god I seen: bits and guts and pieces hanging from the trees,
Stumpy mow the lawn, c'mon, ya gotta bare piece a' ground. Pour some
Concrete, buy a sofa, lay yer body down... your kids are fucking in your
Garbage, they're waiting for your job, got the mouthes around your
Paycheck, got joyticks for your saws.
Nalezli jste chybu?
Stručně prosím popište nalezenou chybu, můžete i okopírovat kousek textu.