My past is littered with the bones of men who Were fools enough to sleep on me A missionary in a sea of mercenaries Who knows what the past will bring?
My favorite transgressions Lost track of the light My favorite transgressions Lost track of the light
From the edge of a life in the present tense I need something that resembles a defense
My past is littered with the bones of men who Were fools enough to sleep on me
No reprieve, no redemption No reprieve, no redemption
No reprieve, no redemption No reprieve, no redemption
Hideous words for hideous things How dare you, how embarrassing When I wanna get cut in the middle of the night Well, I know how to clip the wings
Hideous words for hideous things How dare you, how embarrassing When I wanna get cut in the middle of the night Well, I know how to clip the wingsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
