The Cult - Breathe (you Bastard)
I don't want to be myself,
Yeah baby,
I just want to run,
You gotta' breathe you bastard, breathe
Oh yeah,
You gotta' breathe you bastard, breathe
Straight into the sun.
Ow!
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
I shot the sun,
His tear a gun,
I shot the sun,
His tear a gun baby!
I don't want to be myself,
Yeah baby,
I just want to run,
You gotta' breathe you bastard, breathe
Oh yeah,
You gotta' breathe you bastard, breathe
Straight into the sun.
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
I shot the sun,
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
His tear a gun,
I shot the sun baby,
His tear a gun.
A fact of life for all to see,
That every part's
a part of me.
A fact of life for all to see,
That every part's
a part of me.
Yeah, yeah, yeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhh!
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
And I shot the sun,
And I shot the sun,
And I shot the sun, baby!
And I shot the sun.
Oh Yeah!
Breathe you bastard, breathe
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
Yeah baby,
I just want to run,
You gotta' breathe you bastard, breathe
Oh yeah,
You gotta' breathe you bastard, breathe
Straight into the sun.
Ow!
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
I shot the sun,
His tear a gun,
I shot the sun,
His tear a gun baby!
I don't want to be myself,
Yeah baby,
I just want to run,
You gotta' breathe you bastard, breathe
Oh yeah,
You gotta' breathe you bastard, breathe
Straight into the sun.
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
I shot the sun,
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
His tear a gun,
I shot the sun baby,
His tear a gun.
A fact of life for all to see,
That every part's
a part of me.
A fact of life for all to see,
That every part's
a part of me.
Yeah, yeah, yeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhh!
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
And I shot the sun,
And I shot the sun,
And I shot the sun, baby!
And I shot the sun.
Oh Yeah!
Breathe you bastard, breathe
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero,
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego.
Top songs by The Cult
What do you think about this song?