Compositeur : Pierre Lagahe, François Delque, Pierrick Jullin
Paroles
Temper is allowed to be lost in the brutal city
Pride of being someone in the middle of nowhere has never been so good
Running breathing and feeling the metal taste in your mouth
You wanna be the vegetable growing on a dirty wall
I was born to run but I am hanging around
I wanna share it all, then I burn it all
No, oh no, oh no booh
No, oh no, oh no booh
If I had some help from outer space, would they be able to solve my problems?
But I'm fucked up between four walls, in the brutal city take a selfie in your tomb
Money abolition, global liberation, that's what we're waiting for
How long can you slide like a ping-pong satellite of your sleazy life?
Working, hunting, feeling like a three legged animal
Are you gonna hate me if I'm offering your shrink a rope?
If I had some help from outer space, would they be able to solve my problems?
But I'm fucked up between four walls, in the brutal city take a selfie in your tomb
Brutal city, brutal city
Brutal city, brutal city