Checkin' Out - G.B.H.

I’m in the wrong place, my face doesn’t fit

And I said «Motherfucker» when the bullet hit

I bit on deep, I bit on hard

All we got left now are memories and scars

Think you’re hard done by?

At least you’re alive

See the guy checkin' out of Room 705

Checkin' out now, checkin out the (Rat Race baby)

The squeakers are coming, contagious appeal

I’ve had enough now, how do you feel?

The shotguns are scary, the fireworks are fun

Every day we take a call

Then another curtain call