the times you left me bleeding Clouded, weakened [Incomprehensible] by the haze Cut off my pride, enough to forgive you Reconcile, back to square nothing
For all the times you left me bleeding Clouded, weakend by the haze Cut of my pride, enough to forgive Reconcile, back to square nothing It seems I lost
번역: 화염에. 광장 아무것도.
: For all the times you left me bleeding Clouded, weakend by the haze Cut of my pride, enough to forgive Reconcile, back to square nothing It seems
For all the times you left me bleeding Clouded, weakend by the haze Cut of my pride, enough to forgive Reconcile, back to square nothing It seems I
call big headed but I got a big brain My lifestyle done changed when I got a little change Not the attitude but gratitude to this game You ain't seen nothing
stroll But a way of life, a movement First you take the rag, crease it Place it in your back pocket and bell But remember for all you square ass niggas
Pierced with light Fierce and white The lightning came A bright'ning flame To end the night (A gigantic statue of Ho Chin Mihn is raised in the square
(verse 1) They heard the virgins weeping, Down to town square we go! There they'll be cleansed by fire! I know your yearning to burn the virgin! Let's
looking You thought you'd find my weak spot But still you failed You thought you'd find my weak spot But still you failed From the continents to Croatia, I'll flame
shops I hear them talkin' everywhere Their talkin' never stops" "But all their words of wisdom Won't make you go away The day they closed the factory down They had nothing, nothing
dogs in space; Who?s faces are fading. They?re the loneliest drunk. In empty rooms haunted by Thelonious Monk. Felonious punks and plate glass squares
a moth to a flame Living hand to mouth but I'm hoping for change I've been drowning in the Queen's tears I've been staring at a square face in the mirror
lying there, sleeping like an angel. [Martin Harrison] ls that true, Mrs. Hart? [Amos Hart] I'm telling you, that's the truth. My wife has nothing to
has got to come, and so three witches contend to slice the very last thread (that you curse, curse constantly) But nothing's immortal, and comfort is
of X. This is the new cutting edge. Sixth sense limitations dragging me down. Your transcendence of nothing has fueled the flames of our choir. This
