everyone here's got black lungs makes them die slow sitting on a step with my back wrung writing your poem (right in your palm) i walk with my hands in my pockets now playing with change i'm the offspring the youth and the copycat and i'm making my way
we were born a few months ago out there in san francisco always hate where i am and i sit where i stand and i think til my eyes start to close and i sleep til i start to grow old
everyone here's got black lungs makes them feel better sitting on a step with my back wrung writing your letter i walk with my hands in my pockets now i still strut the same or a sat down boy with some running shoes who can't tie the laceTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
