B / Beck / Mystery song 2
Well if it ain't your time to go then you'd better stay put for now cuz everybody's gotta do their time until it's time and if it ain't broken, then break it and say you knew me way back when when fools were fools, and all rest were swine waiting to be defiled well i could hang up my single out by the side of the road and try to bang a flame out of the cinders you left behind like a driftwood in the night that was washed up by the light of the moon that bleached my bones that sent me to the pile mustard in your smile lend a hand on the radio dial and the breezes of the seasons have blown us back to hell it's a stolen telephone that i dialed blind and alone just to hear the voice of a bargain center soul now the deserts are in flames and the bandages are the same and the factories, casualties are looking for mangled jewels and if it ain't your time to go then you'd better stay put for now cuz anybody gotta put their hand upon the hand of the clock like the minds of misers grinding down their gears to a halt Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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