- Жанр
- Поп-панк
- Лицензия
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- Альбом
- No Idea
- Текст
- Verse I.
The wind reversed my words.
C'mon, blame me.
See, my flowers almost dead.
If the queen will give you wine,
You won't dare to refuse.
Chorus.
I sleep with a murderer,
Two-Face, hey,
Will we throw a coin?
Heads or Tails!! You know!
Verse II.
Repository of my dirt.
I'm consumed of vein disease.
I think that they are looking for new home.
Milk envelops my body.
I'm wrapped of the ground.
Jesus is back. And your bones take me home.