The lightning splits the ice, London spice swallowed by rain When black floods stick the hills Turn by frilled, I am a weed on the wall
We're aching for the maid Sinks fleet, feeling it on the wall I call them when the dark sink for, I am a storm on the run
Just carry on, feel that your generation's gone
Bite of you Useless to, fuse the muse The time went on, the future generation's gone And between it made me And died there, a perfect meant We're victorious at nothingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
