The color
Of Money
Is the
Color of greed
Grab
What you can
Take
What you need
A wishful
Thinker
Lives
In the past
Climbed on
The world
That went by
Too fast
More temper
Than
Imagination
Portrait of
A losing side
Opinions formed
Without
Taking time
To care
The stone thrower
Broke the windows of his glass house
Thoughtless search
For a
Scapegoat
A human coin
On edge
For a time
Having a fallout
All of his own
Hungry for
Want of gentleness
A carnival story
With absence
Of scenes
Slightly tilt
And left
Of center
He can rum
A four minute mile
Just as long as
He was chasing
A fast buck
Sour man
Sit in the rubble
Of your own making
Feed off your own
Disillusions
When your irrational
It's always a sorrow
A thin line into
The dust
Sour man
Feed off your own
Disillusions
Sit in the rubble
Of your own makings
Nasty Savage - Irrational Lyrics
Nasty Savage - Irrational Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
The color
Of Money
Is the
Color of greed
Grab
What you can
Take
What you need
A wishful
Thinker
Lives
In the past
Climbed on
The world
That went by
Too fast
More temper
Than
Imagination
Portrait of
A losing side
Opinions formed
Without
Taking time
To care
The stone thrower
Broke the windows of his glass house
Thoughtless search
For a
Scapegoat
A human coin
On edge
For a time
Having a fallout
All of his own
Hungry for
Want of gentleness
A carnival story
With absence
Of scenes
Slightly tilt
And left
Of center
He can rum
A four minute mile
Just as long as
He was chasing
A fast buck
Sour man
Sit in the rubble
Of your own making
Feed off your own
Disillusions
When your irrational
It's always a sorrow
A thin line into
The dust
Sour man
Feed off your own
Disillusions
Sit in the rubble
Of your own makings
Of Money
Is the
Color of greed
Grab
What you can
Take
What you need
A wishful
Thinker
Lives
In the past
Climbed on
The world
That went by
Too fast
More temper
Than
Imagination
Portrait of
A losing side
Opinions formed
Without
Taking time
To care
The stone thrower
Broke the windows of his glass house
Thoughtless search
For a
Scapegoat
A human coin
On edge
For a time
Having a fallout
All of his own
Hungry for
Want of gentleness
A carnival story
With absence
Of scenes
Slightly tilt
And left
Of center
He can rum
A four minute mile
Just as long as
He was chasing
A fast buck
Sour man
Sit in the rubble
Of your own making
Feed off your own
Disillusions
When your irrational
It's always a sorrow
A thin line into
The dust
Sour man
Feed off your own
Disillusions
Sit in the rubble
Of your own makings