Can't Stop - Hilltop Hoods

Can’t stop, addicted to the shindig

Chop Top, he says I’m gonna win big

Choose not a life of imitation

Distant cousin to the reservation

Defunct, the pistol that you pay for

This punk, the feelin' that you stay for

In time I want to be your best friend

East side love is living on the West End

Knocked out, but, boy, you better come to

Don’t die, you know, the truth as some do

Go write your message on the pavement

Burn so bright, I wonder what the wave meant

White heat is screamin' in the jungle

Complete the motion if you stumble

Go ask the dust for any answers

Come back strong with fifty belly dancers

The world I love, the tears I drop

To be part of the wave, can’t stop

Ever wonder if it’s

All for you?

The world I love, the trains I hop

To be part of the wave, can’t stop

Come and tell me when it’s

Time to

Sweetheart is bleeding in the snow cone

So smart, she’s leadin' me to ozone

Music, the great communicator

Use two sticks to make it in the nature

I’ll get you into penetration

The gender of a generation

The birth of every other nation

Worth your weight, the gold of meditation

This chapter’s gonna be a close one

Smoke rings, I know you’re gonna blow one

All on a spaceship, persevering

Use my hands for everything but steering

Can’t stop the spirits when they need you

Mop tops are happy when they feed you

See Suffa flyin' through the treetop

A bird that blows the meaning into bebop

The world I love, the tears I drop

To be part of the waves, can’t stop

Ever wonder if it’s

All for you?

The world I love, the trains I hop

To be part of the waves, can’t stop

Come and tell me when it’s

Time to

And I can feel it

Coming in the air tonight

Oh Lord

I’ve been waiting for this moment

For all of my life

Oh Lord

I can feel it

Coming in the air tonight

Oh Lord

I’ve been waiting for this moment

For all my life

Hold on (Cheah)

Can’t stop, addicted to the shindig

Chop Top, he says I’m gonna win big

Choose not a life of imitation

Distant cousin to the reservation

Defunct, the pistol that you pay for

This punk, the feelin' that you stay for

In time I want to be your best friend

East side love is living on the West End

Knocked out, but, boy, you better come to

Don’t die, you know, the truth as some do

Go write your message on the pavement

Burn so bright, I wonder what the wave meant

Can’t stop the spirits when they need you

This life is more than just a read-through