SORRY WE'RE OPEN - Bonaparte

Sorry we’re open

Come in we’re closed

I’m warming the raclette oven

I said

Come in we’re closed

It was great talking to you

Having nothing to say

But now that that’s been said

Get the fuck away

My guitar like a kalashnikov

My bass-drum like a bazooka

Pick up youre artillery

In the myth of defeat

And if i’m gonna raise my voice

It’s my weapon of choice

The end of entertaiment

Is the beginning of war

My guitar

My guitar

I’m cursing an ointment

Hear me snorting a symphonie

Every flatulence an opera

Every drop of sweat an elegy

Create something out of nothing

I faking the highlights

I could

My fingerprints in mass production

A public hair nailed to a pieve of wood

My guitar like a kalashnikov

My bass-drum like a bazooka

Pick up youre artillery

In the myth of defeat

And if i’m gonna crack my voice

It’s my weapon of choice

The end of entertaiment

Is the beginning of war

My guitar

My guitar

I don’t knoe where i’m going

Everbody follow me

I don’t knoe where i’m going

Everbody follow me

I don’t knoe where i’m going

Everbody follow me

If i knew where i was going

I wouldn’t want you to come with me

My guitar like a kalashnikov

My bass-drum like a bazooka

Pick up youre artillery

In the myth of defeat

And if i’m gonna crack my voice

It’s my weapon of choice

The end of entertaiment

Is the beginning of war

My guitar

My guitar