SUPERGRASS

HARRISON/WILFRED

WRITTEN AS A MESSAGE TO ALL THE GRASSES OUT THERE, YOU COULD BE NEXT ON THE LIST…HAZZA

HE'S LOCKED AWAY IN A FILTHY ROOM

BLACKED OUT WINDOWS AWAITING HIS DOOM

CIGARETTE SMELLS WAFTING UNDER THE DOOR

A LONE STREAK OF LIGHT FALLING ON THE FLOOR

THE SHUFFLES OF FEET SIGNALS SOMEONE'S NEAR

HE LISTENS AND WAITS IN EXPECTANT FEAR

THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN WITH THE TURN OF A KEY

THE BLINDING LIGHT MAKES IT HARD TO SEE

CHORUS

HE'S A SUPERGRASS, SUPERGRASS, NOW HE'S DEAD

HE'S A SUPERGRASS, SUPERGRASS, NOW HE'S DEAD

A SUPERGRASS NOW HE'S DEAD

A MOUNTAIN OF A MAN WITH AN EVIL STARE

SMACKS HIM IN THE FACE AND TIES HIM TO A CHAIR

HE BEATS HIM WILDLY AROUND THE HEAD

HE WANTS TO KNOW EXACTLY WHAT WAS SAID

NO REPLY MAKES HIM SCREAM AND SHOUT

HE REALISES NOW THAT THERE'S NO WAY OUT

HE BEATS HIM AGAIN AND THE FLOOR'S NOW RED

BUT HE'S GONE TOO FAR SUPERGRASS IS DEAD

CHORUS

HE MESSED WITH THE FIRM SO HE HAD TO PAY

SOLD OUT HIS MATES AND WENT THE OTHER WAY

HE SANG LIKE A BIRD JUST TO SAVE HIS SKIN

HE SHOULD OF KNOWN HE COULD NEVER WIN

EVEN THE COPPERS WHO GAVE THE INTERVIEW

BEEN ON THE PAYROLL FOR A YEAR OR TWO

POLICE PROTECTION IS WHAT THEY SAID

THEY LET HIM DOWN AND NOW HE'S DEAD

CHORUS TO END

COPYRIGHT

THE ROUGH KUTZ 2000

COPYRIGHT

THE ROUGH KUTZ 2000