It's only the old boys who call through the trees Sucking the mist up, I guess it was real and they've got guns
Now I don't hear them, Having shut the shades and secured locks on every door I can lock Sure that if I second guess my work and stick my head out it'll blow off in one shot
And who wants to sleep by her who death becomes Someone who sleep with her neck in reverse It's only me
You look at me, I turn around and wonder am I dreaming Nidgeting a startled pulse out of a little calf with your knee I foresee us undercover faking darker habits Better call it off before me
Or be in this picture with me This picture with me Or be in this picture with me This picture with me Fell for a bone bag who sank into my stream Now you better dry off so nobody sees
It's only the old boys who reserve the rooms, And it's only oxygal accepts the key
Solve for a way to stifle the mim Gets so complacent when he swallows my fingers Did all I could just to keep you around, So while you stand around
Be in this picture with me This picture with me Be in this picture with me This picture with me Fell for a bombshell who tripped in my street Now we better part ways so nobody sees
Sucking the mist up, I guess it was real Good thing I taught you the backstroke you hateTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
