You showed me my tomorrow Beside a box of matches A welcome threatening stir My hopes of being stolen Might just ring true Depends who you prefer
que j'ai vomi ma vie dans la sienne. J'ai puni mon coeur par le feu de la gehenne. Entre deux nausees: l'instant sourd.
Навсегда лишила ты меня себя Глаза последний видят свет НЕТ! И всё, что слышу я сейчас Как дверью хлопаешь в ответ (в последний раз..) Лежа на полу,
se me acaba el argumento y la metodologГa cada vez que se aparece frente a mГ tu anatomГa por que este amor ya no entiende de consejos, ni razones
Хочу отдохнуть от сатиры, У лиры моей Есть тихо дрожащие, легкие звуки, Усталые руки На умные струны кладу, Пою и в такт головою киваю Хочу быть незлобным
You showed me my tomorrow beside a box of matches A welcome threatening stir My hopes of being stolen might just ring true Depends who you prefer If
When I go deaf I won't even mind Yeah, I'll be alright And I'll be just fine I'll stay out all night Looking at the sky I'll still have my sight Yeah
I follow my sight sound You mind seeing eye sound I recovered rebound Your silence is unsound I carried your weight around You leave me to fly down I
Figures that lie; concealed; wait unannounced Lie stricken with fear paralyzed, too cold around you Silence, the answer given Flustered, when questions
Stone face dog, swirling fog, gates open on the dark, dark night Standing stone, skull and bone, dead witness to an unseen fight Beat the drum, beat the
Stand up Crossed the ocean in a silver bird Flying into another world Flying down the Pacific coast Flying up in a silver ghost Love to be back in Los
He's got fasting black lungs Made of clove splintered shards They're the kind that will talk through wheezing of coughs And I hear him Every night
The ocean floor is hidden from your viewing lens a depth perception languished in the night all my life I've been sowing the wounds but the seeds spread
25 wives in the lake tonight raw bark in the water of the marble shrine 25 snakes pour out your eyes yeah the icepicks cumming on the marble shrine 25
There was a frail syrup dripping off his lap danced lapel punctuated by her decrepit prowl she washed down the hatching Gizzard soft as a mane of needles
Our licensing agreement does not allow us to display these lyrics at this time. Sorry for the inconvenience.
