In response to the incredibeley high obscurity standards set by Shambles on posting The Ceefax Acid Crew- My way of Life
My addition, with approximated transllation of the lyrics. I assume not a lot of you do Dutch courses
DeLikt- Pessi-Optimist
Clone's (weed) in the attic.
Headache a la cream.
Hot in the polder,
Wrists busy cutting (weed?).
Dad was fucking.
Walking the streets, skittish.
Always up front accomplicit.
Look up, looked up, pathetic, sad.
Obliged , repent, awkward, devilish.
I dance with the devil, dance with the hate.
Dancing, just want to dance.
Sometimes fearfull, lots of it, suffering,
And still I feel like living.
He has what you could not give me.
Nothing to lose, only to be fulfilled.
Henry Chinaski choir (synonym Bukowski),
stopping for a moment while keeping going at the same time.
Don't know empathy, calm that's not me.
George saw the keys, homie went gallery.
I shot sperm, but certainly no memory (?).
Eat my Berliner, J.F. Kennedy.
Fucka 'or' Vak A (?), the boy is bakka,
back to back as in the brand Kappa.
One woman in my life, that is my momma.
Was in love once, but that shit feels like a disease
Women, distrust a lot of women.
Give me a call for your dope if planning a party.
It starts in the back and ends in the neck,
depression is a whore in what your at.
All I want is a little bit release from the sickness (?),
Money on the kill, more money on the kill,
More money on the kill, so I can lie on my couch and just chill.
Watch the Walking Death, GTST (soap serie) never.
Yes, you rhyme good, but I rhyme better.
Watch the Walking Death, GTST never.
Yes, you rhymes good, but I "rijm beter" (rhyme better in Dutch).
don't do the happy act 2x
Saw the boys with the pony packs (coke seals)
at the children's farm (amusement/educationalfamily thing)
Was stupid, but I had friends, clever,
... (?), because I forget you never.
Hi, Simon, not out of the Gooi (elite neighbourhood).
Yes, you write nice, but not as the boy.
No not, really, not like I would crawl out.
Inhale, exhale, feel Rotterdam South
(traditionally the working class lived South).
I hear voices, lots of optimist pessimists,
recovery, again, I am a pessi-optimist.
I hear voices, lots of optimist pessimists,
recovery, again, I am a pessi-optimist.
The lyrics are by approxemation!