Born to run

In the day we sweat it out in the streets of a runaway American dream

At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines

Sprung from cages out on highway 9,

Chrome wheeled, fuel injected and steppin’ out over the line

Baby this town rips the bones from your back

It’s a death trap, it’s a suicide rap

We gotta get out while were young

`cause tramps like us,

baby...

we were born to run...

3 comentarios

[Nike Shox Rivalry - 27 de septiembre de 2010 - 01:55]

Edge points in let me see you, let me know your recognition, music, let me into your friends, and I had hanged when you, and let me have your room to let me keep, empty rooms at you!

[Jordan 13 - 08 de septiembre de 2010 - 04:53]

Grief is itself a medicine.

[Marina - 25 de febrero de 2010 - 01:50]

Un placer. Murcianos con buen gusto :)