Broken Spoke

Hey Axl, you smoking the same cigarettes as me?
You can’t get no satisfaction with all the distraction of a Bucket on your Head
You’re a devil without sympathy
Without a backing band, you’re a long time dead
Use your illusion to escape the confusion of this mess
Dammit, you know Straddlin’s songs were the best.

Your November riffs broke the ceiling’s glass
Its shattered shards fell like a folded hand of cards.
But with high stakes, the loss is hard
Have you’ve been told you’re not special, just a rusted spoke in a broken fifth wheel?
Just another red brick in the wall?
Come on, get real, we know you’re just waiting for the Division Bells to call.

Sick of preaching and screeching? Well, your fans are a beseeching
Let it rip, stop the hypocrisy,
Release Chinese Democracy.

1 comment:

Brittany Jonn said...

well, there's that,