Our days are numbered 666 And I'll begin the countdown by calling off the circus Somewhere in these cryptic scriptures I'll find myself drifting in a sky full of
Scars they cut into you Blisters rose colored hue Mayday we're going down These mescaline memories are morose Your kerosene company's comatose
Our days are numbered 321 When you bit the bullet I held the smoking gun Somewhere in these violent volumes I'll find myself drifting in a sky full of
Scars they cut into you Blisters rose colored hue Mayday we're going down These masculine memories are morose Your kerosene company's comatose
And I would stick up half of my cold eye To set you on your head If I were you then I would memorize this loose lipped lullaby instead of waiting Carving out your own
Scars they cut into you Blisters rose colored hue Mayday we're going down Follow we went around
Scars they cut into you Blisters rose colored hue Mayday we're going down These mescaline memories are morose Your kerosene company's comatoseTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
