What you call a pain I call weeding out And what you call the rain What you call a pain I call weeding out And what you call the rain Comes out of my mouth
Fuzzy sun Gets you one by one Fuzzy sun Gets the job well done
Rolling drunks for their cigarettes Frightening babies that aren't born yet
You feel I've passed you by You feel that you've been robbed Well nothing will feel worse Than dying on the job
Fuzzy sun When you have come undone Fuzzy sun A boy must have his fun
A cigarette to brand a baby's arm A bit of ash in his face keeps him warmTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
