Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: Dad. No Fuel Left For The Pilgrims. Rim of Hell.

I'll start your day with a shock
See you one of these days 'bout 12 o'clock
The world will turn into a little rock
And it's going to fall down with the sound of a knock

Now I'm one of these guys who's nice to know
'Coz I know a place to go
It's just down the generation gap
I'll take you there in a red hot cab

And if you want, I mean you really, really want
I'll show you my hometown and it's down
Yeah, you can tell by the smell
So close you can hear them yell

They throw the best damn parties at the rim of hell
Oh, Lord, let me live to tell
They throw the best damn parties at the rim of hell

And meet your host, lift your glass for a toast
Don't be afraid of the colors he wear
Look around, all your friends are here

Now don't say you've had enough
Stay a while, stay tough
Grab his horns like you just don't care
We'll eat the fire and drink what's there, yeah

'Coz if you want, I'll take you down down
I mean you really, really want, I'll show you my home town
Let's stay until the end, the very end
And to be saved by the bell, so close we almost fell

They throw the best damn parties at the rim of hell
Yeah, you can tell by the smell
They throw the best damn parties at the rim of hell

To the edge and back and to the edge again
Too hot for the DJ and too hot for his friends
C'mon, party

They throw the best damn parties at the rim of hell
Yeah
They throw the best damn parties at the rim of hell

Oh, lord, let me live to tell
They throw the best damn parties at the rim of hell
Please, I can't stand the smell
They throw the best damn parties at the rim of hell