0:004:01
Monkeyking war der zweite eigene Song, den die Band spielte. Das Intro war ursprünglich doppelt so lang. Aktuell ist das Intro in der gleichen Geschwindigkeit, wie der Song. ^^
Chris Wörner - voc
Peter Golsner - Git
Peter Swoboda - Git, voc
Helmuth Baumann - bass, voc
Marc Trampenau - drums
Chris Wörner - voc
Peter Golsner - Git
Peter Swoboda - Git, voc
Helmuth Baumann - bass, voc
Marc Trampenau - drums
Monkeyking
Let’s kick some ass
I know you well, you’re like the others
I met a bunch of all your brothers
Your butt is red, the swollen kind one
A weary head with grey hair on
You think you’re different, your back is shiny
You’re the boss and I am tiny
In your mind, you are the worker
Folks like me are stupid shirker
Fight your territory, hit your breast
Mark the trees and stretch your chest
Wait for backup, defend your wing
The pack is waiting, monkeyking
Your head is big, a mighty neck
Nothing in it, your brain’s a wreck
You need a stage for your performance
Dumb and muscles, your coherence
When you’re alone, can’t harm a fly
You are speechless and I know why
There’s no sense in fighting you
You beat yourself, without a clue
Fight your territory, hit your breast
Mark the trees and stretch your chest
Wait for backup, defend your wing
The pack is waiting, monkeyking
You are weak in conversation
Violence is your foundation
In your eyes are talkers hawkers
Words are good for carracewalkers
With your pallies you are strong
You are right and we are wrong
There’s no place for different minded
Can’t you see that you are blinded
Fight your territory, hit your breast
Mark the trees and stretch your chest
Wait for backup, defend your wing
The pack is waiting, monkeyking
Let’s kick some ass
I know you well, you’re like the others
I met a bunch of all your brothers
Your butt is red, the swollen kind one
A weary head with grey hair on
You think you’re different, your back is shiny
You’re the boss and I am tiny
In your mind, you are the worker
Folks like me are stupid shirker
Fight your territory, hit your breast
Mark the trees and stretch your chest
Wait for backup, defend your wing
The pack is waiting, monkeyking
Your head is big, a mighty neck
Nothing in it, your brain’s a wreck
You need a stage for your performance
Dumb and muscles, your coherence
When you’re alone, can’t harm a fly
You are speechless and I know why
There’s no sense in fighting you
You beat yourself, without a clue
Fight your territory, hit your breast
Mark the trees and stretch your chest
Wait for backup, defend your wing
The pack is waiting, monkeyking
You are weak in conversation
Violence is your foundation
In your eyes are talkers hawkers
Words are good for carracewalkers
With your pallies you are strong
You are right and we are wrong
There’s no place for different minded
Can’t you see that you are blinded
Fight your territory, hit your breast
Mark the trees and stretch your chest
Wait for backup, defend your wing
The pack is waiting, monkeyking
