Оригинален текст
I saw your mom the other day.
She says you're wrong in every way.
Her little words sick like the flu.
I see the things they do to you.
She better cut it out.
You better cut her out.
You better cut her off.
You'll have no other god before me.
I saw you with your friends last night, shooting shit by Bud's early Light.
You've got so much life inside you.
But they drag you down 'til you can't move.
They better cut it out.
You better cut them out.
You better cut them off.
You'll have no other god before me.
All you need, all you need, all you need is me.
Lucky you, lucky you, lucky you.
You found me.
Whadja do? Whadja see? Whadja feel before me? 1
And my love is so, oh, oh, you'll wanna kill your friends.
I've seen you labour for your dreams.
Then, comatose when they're unseen.
And sometimes God is silent, too.
But God can't fill you like I do.
He better cut it out.
You better cut Him out.
You better cut Him off.
You'll have no other God before me.
You'll have no other God before me.
You'll have no other God before me.