19 acessos
Yodel well, and your pickings swell
And you play so hard for the folks in Hell
And they can't see nothing
Nothin' at all
Chains to the legs, bolts to the ground
You boys ain't leaving 'til this crowd turns around
They don't hear nothing
Nothing at all
The colder the night, the hotter the lights
Your sweat drips down and the crowd starts fist-fights
They hear nothing
Nothing at all
But the air on stage is burning our lungs
And we're all going deaf from the beating drums
And you can't see a thing for all the blood
And sweat in our eyes
Yeah we played 'til we died, and now we're all dead
But the man says: You gotta get up there again
And you can't come down 'til the brimstone turns to ice
But the air on stage is burning our lungs
And we're all going deaf from the beating drums
And you can't see a thing for all the blood
And sweat in our eyes
Yeah we played 'til we died, and now we're all dead
But the man says: You gotta get up there again
And you can't come down 'til the brimstone turns to ice
And you can't sing a note for the dust in your throat
We're running on empty and the bands lost all hope
'Cause they can't hear nothing
Nothing at all
Welcome to hell, ladies and gent's
You sinned and fell, no time to repent
And you can't hear nothing
Nothing at all
No you can't hear nothing
Nothing at all