the outcasts, white trash and wasted youth out there Doing their time on the city streets And praying to the night sky alone This ones for us Our kind
outcasts, white trash and wasted youth out there Doing their time on the city streets And praying to the night sky alone This ones for us Our kind belongs
eyes And he is on a horse a horse a horse With a train of smoke behind its hooves And I must say from my depths I have seen a story emerge from a cloud
luck, I need a best friend I need a rough dog, I need a mountain I need some new clothes, a tv, a cause A trip to nirvana, a thrill of applause I need a
