I'm posting the lyrics so that I know exactly what subliminal messages are going through my mind whenever I listen to this
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All pigs must die
This ain't August '69
All pigs must die
7 & 7 - Sieg Heil - sublime!
Their trotters are in the mud
They're better off with the son of God
They had no idea
Not even close, not even near
All pigs must die
This ain't August '69
All pigs must die
7 & 7 - Sieg Heil - sublime!
All pigs must die
This is August '99 (that was August '99)
All pigs must die
Their stolen riches are really mine
Cover their faces in blood
They're better off with the son of God
All pigs must die
This is August '99
The law of The claw will make them mine
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"This is a story about people who like to waste time... waste my time, waste your time, waste their
time; but time is against them. Time is everyone's master, including them..."
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock
Three piggies standing in the dock
Their pockets all empty and bare
Their futures, their homes, nowhere
Auf wiedersehen...
Do vdjenja...
With egos they decide to lead
With stupidity they ooze and bleed
What comfort they could have had
Is now gone and up for grabs
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock
Three piggies standing in the dock
Their snouts all bloody and red
They should have said goodbye instead
Ciao!
Auf Wiedersehn!
Arrivederci piggie!
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From the Olympic City we will cast
Our runic charms, our charms that last
Enough for a pig a day, enough to make them pay
Enough for pigs to disappear in every way
Remember piggies:
A threat for a threat
And a blow for a blow
A stripe for a stripe
As above, so below
Your puerile words mean nothing to me
Your traitor trotters teeter totter, and scurry!
For all pigs must die, your being is a lie
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These are strange days for you, me, and Germany
These are strange days we find ourselves in
These are strange days for you, me, and Germany
But, we have honour, and with that we (we'll) win!
I had a fight with three piggies
Your enemy seems to be within
These are strange days for you, me, and Germany
But, we struggle, and together we'll win!
These are strange days for you, me, and Germany
The storm clouds are gathered and gray
These are strange days for you, me, and Germany
So we find ourselves here today
Snakes and devils surround us
Friends are few and rare indeed
Pig upon pig-dog will hound us
But, we get stronger as they inbreed
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"This is a story about three little piggies. Three little piggies who never went to market, especially on a
Friday afternoon when they stayed at home and let other people bring home the bacon. And they
still do! But the rashers get thinner and thinner, and life's knives get sharper and sharper..."
This milchcow has given its last pound of flesh
Their coffers, once full, will be emptiness
A curse for a night time, a curse for a lifetime
Three months have gone, and six months are due-time
Threatening squeals, it's shut up and pay time
For three little piggies, wither and decay time
Happy greet, happy meat, but better happy to goodbye time
The three months have gone, it's six months to pay time
As we have seen the guilty have no Pride
But, their lies do lead to their own suicide.
This milchcow has given it's last pound of flesh
young coffins will fill their hearts' emptiness.
Now you have seen, I can't help but grin
My angels are coming from deep within!
Now you have heard, I can't help but grin
My demons are coming from deep within!
Die piggie, die... bye bye!
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There's a pox upon Blackheath
and it isn't far beneath
Where three piggies choose to lie
Fly-blown piggies choose to cry
Every grabbin' mother needs
To see how those piggies feed
Their heads buried in the trough
Forty per cent was never enough
Piggie Piggie pay me
Schweinhund Piggie pay me
Fly-blown Piggie pay me
Or you will have no sty
Build their houses, pay taxes too
Petit bourgeois through and through
I do want to and I will if I have to
Ruin more than two calls could ever do
Not sure whether to laugh or cry?
I'll make your mind up: weep!
Not sure whether to live or die?
I'll prepare your slaughter, sheep!
Piggie Piggie pay me
Schweinhund Piggie pay me
Fly-blown Piggie pay me
Or you will have no sty
Every grabbin' mother needs
To see how three piggies feed
Their heads buried in the trough
Fifty per cent was never enough
There's a pox upon Blackheath
and it isn't far beneath
Where three piggies choose to lie
Fly-blown piggies choose to die
I'll pick up my burden
Ritually protect my heart
I'll pick up my burden
Let the hating start
Life's too short to live defiled
Life is precious so I'll live life proud
I'm blessed and guided thru eternity
I'll confront my burden and set me free
― CaptainLorax, Tuesday, 7 April 2009 21:13 (sixteen years ago)