Got your bones spread out on the dance floor Chomping bits on your way to the supermarket Well respected, well received, the piano and the luggage Own the reason that we all are faking it Scene two got an itchy feeling pets are trapped in Give the voice a document to photograph those still life images
You can’t make me talk, fire couldn’t make me talk, is any, is any, is any... You can’t make me talk, fire couldn’t make me talk They came in, they came in, through the window...
I waited around for this clock for these dirty words Take hold of my tongue when you're pressing it down Against the floor of my mouth there’s a pulse in every drop of history Space is allotted for the questioner At small things, the smallest things that could ever be stolen Briefcases hold a piece of this a broken arm, a ratchet hand
Move right to the bushes with a light bulb overhead
You can’t make me talk, fire couldn’t make me talk, is any, is any, is any... You can’t make me talk, fire couldn’t make me talk They came in, they came in, through the window...
Bury your knife, bury your knife...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
