How many lives does it take to ruin a single one? I once learned of a boy, he couldn't sing at all Yet he knew every note of my song
Found one day they called him, "The Wild Boy" He's a mess, he's a man, what should we do with him? He saw a tree, called it, Mom, and she called him, Son
Peter, what makes you sad? And how in the world did you let it get this bad?
I knew a person who read up on the likes of him He had no soul, he was young, he was fitting in Peter ate plants, grew a beard and lived with kings But, he couldn't understand a thing
Peter, what makes you sad? And how in the world did you let it get this bad?
Peter, how do you know? Your eyebrows are the mountains, and your dandruff is the snow
The year that he died, the United States dollar was born And now, when I pay for my lunch I feel tree-bark skin He's in my purse, in my ears, he makes thoughts beginTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
