Worry

Don't you worry. Worry no more

YOur own holocaust to wallow in

Exaggeration in story telling

Merely a statistic in this latitude

Don't you worry

These words are like bullets

They go straight to my head

And I grow on greed, with the mother of invention

Don't you worry

These words are like bullets

They go straight to my head

The fruits of life, gave me dysentery

These words are like bullets

They go straight to my head

Keep an ear to the ground

Only flesh is earthbound

Don't you worry no more

Worry no more

Vyšlo na albech

1970