Junkyard Tribe - Kevin MacLeod

I am the King I am the King I am the King I am the King I am the King I am the King I am the King I am the King One dead marine through the hatch Scratch and scrape this heavenly body Every inch of winning skin There's garbage in honey's sack again Garbage in honey's sack again Garbage in honey's sack again Honey, honey, honey, honey Come on and kiss me Honey, honey, honey, honey Stack the garbage junk Honey, honey, honey, honey Honey's child is taken over this place Two dead marines standing in a row Drink to me, my heavenly body Every inch a winning thing There's garbage in honey's sack again Garbage in honey's sack again Garbage in honey's sack again Honey, honey, honey, honey Come on and kiss me Honey, honey, honey, honey Stack all this junk Honey, honey, honey, honey Honey's child is taken over this place Hack, hack, hack, hack hack this heavenly body Yack, yack, yack, yack, yack, yack goes junk-face Scratch, scrape, scratch, scrape this winning thing There's garbage in honey's sack again Junk in honey's bunk again Garbage in honey Garbage in honey Garbage in honey Garbage in honey Garbage in honey Garbage in honey Garbage in honey Garbage in honey Garbage in honey Garbage in honey Garbage in honey Garbage in honey

Dented bodies, broken souls Wilted roses, hearts grow cold Unhappy endings and shattered dreams ? Where's the candlelight, where's the smiles Man this place goes on for miles There's heaps and heaps of wedding rings Equal space for tramps and kings There's no doberman dogs or security guards at the love junkyard Open twenty four hours, come as you are, yeah, to the love junkyard Tanks of teardrops shed in vain Mixin with the pouring rain Promises go up in smoke Freight cars full of abandoned hurt and hope There's no doberman dogs or security guards at the love junkyard Open twenty four hours, come as you are, yeah, to the love junkyard Tiny trysts or grand affairs, there抯 no more need for teddy bears The time for pretty words has past, so fly the flag of love half mast At the love junkyard, yeah There's no dobermans though or security guards at the love junkyard Open twenty four hours, bring your broken heart, to the love junkyard To the love, to the love junkyard Is that you, is that you, is that you baby, is that you... Look what I've done for you ...