Personal Stuff

Graf Orlock Lyrics

Personal Stuff Lyrics

Personal Stuff by Graf Orlock

Billy Bedlam, diamond dog, cirus the virus, garland green. Nothing quite like seeing a grown man p**s his pants. Hes a fort of misplaced rage, name your clich, mother held him too much, or not at all, late night sneaky uncle, now hes so angry, moments of levity cause him pain. f**k you trailer trash, gag and bag this nazi muffin. I'd rather crush his larynx with my boot. What is this sh*t? Its my daugter, I don't care if it's the weeping mamma of Christ. What if I told you insane was working 50 hours a week for 50 years? Now you talk semantics. What the f**k was that?

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