Coca-Cobra

I'm walking down the street,

My brain feels the beat.

I need to drink it now.

My body twists and shakes.

My mind's a full mistake.

The world has shot me down.

Is my energy coming to life?

Or am I just another sacrifice?

Gimme some whisky,

I can't stay clean.

I goddamn want to vent my spleen.

Coca-capitalism! Coca-capitalism!

Diabetes and blood pressure are driving frustration.

The blood bank rejected my fresh blood donation.

When I'll be dead, then my gravestone will say:

"Coca-Cobra, sweet death in a red-white soda.

Coca-Cobra, don't drink - the human rights slaughter."

"Coca-Cobra, sweet death in a red-white soda.

Coca-Cobra, don't drink - a human rights slaughter."

My sweat is ice cold, covering you in gold. I want to protest now.