| 11908 |
Psycho killer run, run, run, run, run, run, run away. |
Talking Heads, |
Psycho Killer |
| 11909 |
Psychologically speaking, we're in a state of mental diarrhea. |
Funkadelic, |
Promentalshitbackwashpsychosisememasquad |
| 11910 |
Psychologically, it's better that I think that I'm dirt. |
Lou Reed, |
Downtown Dirt |
| 11911 |
Purple haze all in my eyes, don't know if it's day or night. You got me blowin', blowin' my mind. Is it tomorrow or just the end of time? |
Jimi Hendrix, |
Purple Haze |
| 11912 |
Purple haze is in my brain, lately things don't seem the same. |
Jimi Hendrix, |
Purple Haze |
| 11913 |
Relax said the nightman, we are programmed to receive. You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave. |
The Eagles, |
Hotel California |
| 11914 |
Rotting corpses are my lunch, on bones I love to crunch. Shriveled innards I lick, the corpses head I kick. |
Carcass, |
Exhume To Consume |
| 11915 |
Schizophrenic lunatic, uncontrolled desire, rape and ravage lady fair, pledged to die. |
Slayer, |
Kill Again |
| 11916 |
Seven shots ring out like the ocean's pounding roar, there's seven people dead on a South Dakota farm. |
Bob Dylan, |
Ballad Of Hollis Brown |
| 11917 |
She asked for my love and I gave her a dangerous mind. |
David Bowie, |
Scary Monsters |
| 11918 |
She didn't know that there was more of me, she'd have to learn to love all four of me. |
Alice Cooper, |
No Man's Land |
| 11919 |
She said, I know what it's like to be dead. |
The Beatles, |
She Said She Said |
| 11920 |
Sleep my friends, and you will see, our dreams are our reality. |
Metallica, |
Welcome Home Sanitarium |
| 11921 |
Some maniac butcher is trying to hack away your balls. |
Alice Cooper, |
The World Needs Guts |
| 11922 |
Sometimes I give myself the creeps, sometimes my mind plays tricks on me. It all keeps adding up, I think I'm cracking up. |
Green Day, |
Basket Case |
| 11923 |
Sometimes I wanna kill, sometimes I wanna die, sometimes I wanna destroy, sometimes I wanna cry. |
Guns and Roses, |
Don't Damn Me |
| 11924 |
Sometimes I'd feel more fulfilled, making Christmas cards with the mentally ill. |
The Smiths, |
Frankly Mr. Shankly |
| 11925 |
Squeeze out the pus, perforate the rash, munch the moldy scabs, lick the septic gash. |
Carcass, |
Crepitating Bowel Erosion |
| 11926 |
Tell me how do you sleep with the children you abandoned and the wife I saw you beat. I will never be safe, I will never be sane, I will always be weird inside. |
Everclear, |
Father Of Mine |
| 11927 |
Temporary catatonic, madman on occasion, when will he break out of his solitary shell? |
Dream Theatre, |
Solitary Shell |