Songtext von Hands Off The Bayou

Run, run to the east confession trash We don't need your thrills or Your call-book cash Let's just nature's got plans To keep you up there Swamps, fiddles that whine About the mayor Our caves are divine They've got conditioned air Fan-tail, backwash, rooms Will stay up here Hands off of the bayou Heel, stay in your state It's a new south trap What, what is the bait? Ya silly aqua-cat War! College exams You know I learned a lot about The fiction ya tossed And the father's fat and lost Your failless father lost Your chivalry is lost Your shivalry in shame Hands off of the bayou (Get some bombs)