One and a-two and a-three
Tumors seem like something you would collect And poison seems like something you would take In the offensive ways of all flesh
I am not ready And cannot accept That it is spread like a cancer
Goodnight, goodnight Don't look, sweet old friend Don't look, little sister Don't answer, knock, knock, knock Don't answer Only answer for your fear of God Don't answer for the nothings else Ye, o night, o night, o night Get away, ye, o night Get off, get back, get off, o night
It is in fact maybe magnificent In the bosoms of Abraham I will behead all the saints I will behead all the stars Let lightning strike where it will Coco-nuts, ba-nay-nays Flowering vines in revolt Let there be peace And let it begin with thee
I am not ready and I cannot accept I am not ready and I cannot accept I am not ready and I cannot accept
Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl, bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl, bl-bl-bl, bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl, bl-bl, bl-bl, bl-bl
Maybe you can revolt If you can't revolt
Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl, bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl, bl-bl-bl, bl-bl-bl Bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl
Chunks of your forearm Chunks of your scalp Chunks of your hunch Now in a dumpster or in a sandwich Your hairpiece perched upon your head As if dropped from the ceiling by accident Never not at worry And now, never not blonde Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho Let her be reborn as something unruinable A meteor, a mushroom, a kakapo A sparkling out of control Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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