You know we are so much cooler then we seem
untouchable and pretty like a laser beam.
Sort of sparkling, hard to look at
just like an eclipse of the sun, you know what!?
Things we touch turn into gold
take anything just to break the mold.
I´t takes more then two to tango
Scaramouche, Scaramouche will you do the fandango.
Slowing down your heart like "macaroni and cheese"
I´ts our famous last stand and we do as we please.
Feels like these fat ryhmes way over a ton
so turn up the speed while the beat goes on.
You cant turn away this time
just like a drunk driver we ignore all signs.
Life is a journey down a muddy slope
hang on to the noose at the end of the rope.
We´re leaving when the roof´s on fire
no matter how you try you cant get much higher.
Rhymes more fat than Ricky Lake
in the eighties when she´s chewing on her birthdaycake.
-chorus-
Notify your next of kin.
You dont know the mess your in.
Make you feel weird like margaritas on ´roids
it´s all downhill from here
so sit back and enjoy.
We dont carry no guns
we like knives and mace
and thats why you b****** are all our slaves.
-chorus-
(If you love Electro in all it´s forms, you got to let the Harlem kind get it´s share.
The lyrics are about us when we are in party-mode. We always were the weird-kids and the clowns...or "Scaramouches" if you will)
untouchable and pretty like a laser beam.
Sort of sparkling, hard to look at
just like an eclipse of the sun, you know what!?
Things we touch turn into gold
take anything just to break the mold.
I´t takes more then two to tango
Scaramouche, Scaramouche will you do the fandango.
Slowing down your heart like "macaroni and cheese"
I´ts our famous last stand and we do as we please.
Feels like these fat ryhmes way over a ton
so turn up the speed while the beat goes on.
You cant turn away this time
just like a drunk driver we ignore all signs.
Life is a journey down a muddy slope
hang on to the noose at the end of the rope.
We´re leaving when the roof´s on fire
no matter how you try you cant get much higher.
Rhymes more fat than Ricky Lake
in the eighties when she´s chewing on her birthdaycake.
-chorus-
Notify your next of kin.
You dont know the mess your in.
Make you feel weird like margaritas on ´roids
it´s all downhill from here
so sit back and enjoy.
We dont carry no guns
we like knives and mace
and thats why you b****** are all our slaves.
-chorus-
(If you love Electro in all it´s forms, you got to let the Harlem kind get it´s share.
The lyrics are about us when we are in party-mode. We always were the weird-kids and the clowns...or "Scaramouches" if you will)