| Song | Calienté (Dark Entries) |
| Artist | Revolting Cocks |
| Album | Cocked and Loaded |
| 作词 : Ash, Haskins, J., Murphy | |
| Why... this is unreal | |
| I can't stand still long enough | |
| To let myself freak out | |
| Freak out | |
| Hello there fella | |
| Jesus | |
| I'm on the jug again | |
| With sheaths and pills | |
| Invading all those stills | |
| In a hovel of a bed | |
| I will scream in vain | |
| Oh please miss Lane | |
| I'm pissed again | |
| And walking through out city's neon lights | |
| Discussing our whopping sick sequential lines | |
| Wanna carve out our lives | |
| Intangible of price | |
| Trying to find what happened last night | |
| I came upon your room it stuck into my head | |
| We leapt into the bed degrading even lice | |
| You took delight in taking down | |
| My shielded pride | |
| Until exposed my darker side | |
| Puckering up and down those avenues of sin | |
| Too cheap to ride they're worth a try | |
| If only for the old times cold times | |
| Don't go waving your pretentious love | |
| Heaping on loads of complements he concocts every painable technique of exposing | |
| himself to the thrones of eagerly awainting merchant marines | |
| Unaware of his own brooding nature, the ex-biker shreiks back across the infield | |
| "Lay me down and help despite?" take off their clothes and do dirty unspeakable | |
| things to the tiny ones waiting by the fishtank to take a bath that will last one | |
| thousand years | |
| I came into your room it stuck into my head | |
| We leapt in bed degrading even lice | |
| With a little pain | |
| My shielded pride | |
| Until exposed my darker side | |
| Puckering up and down those avenues of sin | |
| Too cheap to ride they're worth a try | |
| If only for the old times | |
| Don't go wasting your pretentious love | |
| Halfway out of a wheelchair the commie ex-patriot art dealer slash pimp shoves cells of | |
| pure feeling into the mouths of innocent prostitutes begging for a better view of the | |
| real videos so that their own skulls evaporating into nothing while men of real wealth | |
| wash their penises in the open sores of one hundred thousand blinded children looking | |
| for a better place to die | |
| To die x 3 | |
| I canna bubba lubba groopa wanna getta trubba dubba lubba | |
| lalalala kakakaka buhbuh | |
| ???? | |
| Echo echo echo echo echo echo mother fucker | |
| And just chill bitch |
| zuò cí : Ash, Haskins, J., Murphy | |
| Why... this is unreal | |
| I can' t stand still long enough | |
| To let myself freak out | |
| Freak out | |
| Hello there fella | |
| Jesus | |
| I' m on the jug again | |
| With sheaths and pills | |
| Invading all those stills | |
| In a hovel of a bed | |
| I will scream in vain | |
| Oh please miss Lane | |
| I' m pissed again | |
| And walking through out city' s neon lights | |
| Discussing our whopping sick sequential lines | |
| Wanna carve out our lives | |
| Intangible of price | |
| Trying to find what happened last night | |
| I came upon your room it stuck into my head | |
| We leapt into the bed degrading even lice | |
| You took delight in taking down | |
| My shielded pride | |
| Until exposed my darker side | |
| Puckering up and down those avenues of sin | |
| Too cheap to ride they' re worth a try | |
| If only for the old times cold times | |
| Don' t go waving your pretentious love | |
| Heaping on loads of complements he concocts every painable technique of exposing | |
| himself to the thrones of eagerly awainting merchant marines | |
| Unaware of his own brooding nature, the exbiker shreiks back across the infield | |
| " Lay me down and help despite?" take off their clothes and do dirty unspeakable | |
| things to the tiny ones waiting by the fishtank to take a bath that will last one | |
| thousand years | |
| I came into your room it stuck into my head | |
| We leapt in bed degrading even lice | |
| With a little pain | |
| My shielded pride | |
| Until exposed my darker side | |
| Puckering up and down those avenues of sin | |
| Too cheap to ride they' re worth a try | |
| If only for the old times | |
| Don' t go wasting your pretentious love | |
| Halfway out of a wheelchair the commie expatriot art dealer slash pimp shoves cells of | |
| pure feeling into the mouths of innocent prostitutes begging for a better view of the | |
| real videos so that their own skulls evaporating into nothing while men of real wealth | |
| wash their penises in the open sores of one hundred thousand blinded children looking | |
| for a better place to die | |
| To die x 3 | |
| I canna bubba lubba groopa wanna getta trubba dubba lubba | |
| lalalala kakakaka buhbuh | |
| nbsp???? | |
| Echo echo echo echo echo echo mother fucker | |
| And just chill bitch |