[Lyrics: Christopher Bowes, Music: Tim Shaw & Christopher Bowes] Go - the cold moonlight reflecting off your blade So many centuries spent waiting for
Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street, a gentle Irishman mighty odd He had a brogue both rich and sweet, an' to rise in the world he carried a hod You
for a liquor Poor Tim was born, to help him on with His work each day, He'd a drop of the Craythor every morn'. One morning Tim was rather full, his
and unbending I spend my time healing and mending together it's a question of whether live positive well I give P-Nut joints are fat, he must be arthritic Tim
pour pe-ra mec, J'en ai bave mais nique sa mere depuis j'apprends a faire avec ; Et puis c'est simple tu sens la rage quand les amis s'arrachent, A Fleury
looks Shook by parliament I mean society I in me starting this riot up inside of me I could by my own suit, and switch up my Tim Boots The funny thing
balafres sur la tete a ce putain bout d'seum couz de mon mauvais caractere a mon flow de mes freres aux putes dans mon dos (tout ce que j'ai!) ma premiere paire d'tim
with the Motley Crue, who gon' stop who? Rock star don't need no tattoo Guitar out of the sharp, Fender bass with the Stratocaster With Prodigy, Rage
changing, never changing Why is it infinite? The evil that revolves around our universe The always changing, never changing Nothing changes! Pressure point, burning rage
Mr. Dylan I have written you a song About the river of new singers that still rolls along. So here?s to Ragan, here?s to Marwood, Here?s to Tim and Jonah
spend my time healing and mending together it's a question of whether live positive well I give P-Nut joints are fat, he must be arthritic Tim is from
speech slurred Served with a cherry on top Rage in effect I just begun to rock Yeah, rock on witcha bad self (RAGE!) Rock on witcha bad self (RAGE!) Rock on witcha bad self (RAGE
loud and unbending I spend my time healing and mending together it's a question of whether live positive well I give P-Nut joints are fat, he must be arthritic Tim