Letras
It's a jump to the left
And a step to the right
Through a hole in folded over space and time
Cause I'm leaving the home base
And I will be presumed MIA
In a Cobra MKVII hyper bound
They call me son of a gun
A privateer on the run
But its fine with me cause I'm heading for the center of the sun
With a cargo of counterfeit goods
Passing overgrown green backwoods
Where the gravitation makes it an endeavor
Through a vision of smoke
I can see that it's no joke
That the war we fight is going on forever
They call me son of a gun
A privateer on the run
But its fine with me cause I'm heading for the center of the sun
They call me son of a gun
A privateer on the run
But its fine with me cause I'm heading for the center of the sun
Center of the sun
Center of the sun
Center of the sun