August
Sunday 2 September 2007 photo 1/1
|
Yeah here we go for the hundredth time, Hand grenade pins in every line Throw 'em up and let something shine Going out of my fucking mind Filthy mouth, no excuse Find a new place to hang this noose String me up from atop these roofs Knot it tight so I won't get loose Truth is you can stop and stare Bled myself out and no one cares Dug a trench out, laid down there With a shovel up out to reach somewhere Yea someone pour it in, Make it a dirt dance floor again Say your prayers and stomp it out When they bring that chorus in I bleed it out Digging deeper just to throw it away
Annons
Visa toppen
Show footer