MANIC STREET PREACHERS - Yes lyrics

rate me

For sale? dumb cunt's same dumb questions<br>Virgin? listen, all virgins are liars honey<br>And I don't know what I'm scared of or what I even enjoy<br>Dulling, get money, but nothing turns out like you want it to<br>And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything<br>For $200 anyone can conceive a God on video<br>He's a boy, you want a girl so tear off his cock<br>Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him rita if you want<br>I eat and I dress and I wash and I still can say thank you<br>Puking - shaking - sinking I still stand for old ladies<br>Can't shout, can't scream, hurt myself to get pain out<br>I 't' them, 24:7, all year long<br>Purgatory's circle, drowning here, someone will always say yes<br>Funny place for the social, for the insects to start caring<br>Just an ambulance at the bottom of a cliff<br>In these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything<br>For $200 anyone can conceive a God on video<br>He's a boy, you want a girl so tear off his cock<br>Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him rita if you want, if you want<br>I eat and I dress and I wash and I can still say thank you<br>Puking - shaking - sinking I still stand for old ladies<br>Can't shout, can't scream, hurt myself to get pain out<br>Power produces desire, the weak have none<br>There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty<br>Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment<br>The only certain thing that is left about me<br>There's no part of my body that has not been used<br>Pity or pain, to show displeasure's shame<br>Everyone I've loved or hated always seems to leave<br>And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything<br>For $200 anyone can conceive a God on video<br>He's a boy, you want a girl so tear off his cock<br>Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him rita if you want, if you want<br>Power produces desire, the weak have none<br>There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty<br>Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment<br>Don't hurt, just obey, lie down, do as they say<br>May as well be heaven this hell, smells the same<br>These sunless afternoons I can't find myself.