Letra de Weekend Wars (live at the Bataclan) - Mgmt

Evil S.I.S. to find the shore
A beast that doesn't quiver anymore
And we could crush some plants to paint my walls
And I won't try to fight in the weekend wars

Was I, I was too lazy to bathe
Or paint, or write, or try to make a change
Now I can shoot a gun to kill my lunch
And I don't have to love or think too much

Instant battle plans written on the sidewalk
Mental mystics in a twisted metal car
Tried to amplify the sound of light and love

Christ is cursed of faders and maders
Might even take a knife to split a hair
Or even scare the children off my lawn
Giving us time to make the makeshift bombs

https://www.coveralia.com/letras/weekend-wars--live-at-the-bataclan--mgmt.php
Every mess invested was a score
We couldn't use computers anymore
But it's difficult to win unless you're bored
And you might have to plan for the weekend wars

Try to break my heart, I'll drive to Arizona
It might take a hundred years to grow an arm
I'll sit and listen to the sound of sand and cold
Twisted diamond heart, I'm the weekend warrior
My predictions are the only things I have
I can amplify the sound of light and love

I'm a curse and I'm a sound
When I open up my mouth
There's a reason I don't win
I don't know how to begin