Slow down, don't fuck with my high I want to be left alone here with my monsters and Say, now it's time to ride To see lovely girls and to not put the moves on them Praise now the baby genius She skips in the shade of the lonely sour apple tree While she snaps on her gum Her gleaming teeth bared and the shine that she shows to me
All of your ill-gotten gains That you have whipped up to a rich, foamy lather, girl Nameless gnaw of my pains Like three hundred trumpets, and just one is out of tuneTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.