We knew that this one is ours. We came we saw we conquered We knew that this one is yours Close the doors and shut it down We hope that this one will
prematures, tous ces cris de victoire, O vous qui me plantez la corne dans le dos, Sachez que vous avez vendu les genitoires, Reverence parler, de l'ours
the calm, we face the fear As we learn to win and love Voices and speaking Still we hear what we want to hear Our life is ours to choose Chorus
end is near So rest in peace cause we're the ones that put ourselves here Water rises now hold your breath and count down This ship of sinners and saints
splashed with flowering cherries blooms upon millions through the city lies as far north is Saint John's oh what of Saint John's? what of Saint John
pleine d'embuches Je veux plus d'un hymne, 100 bougies Ni noel sans buches finish Previens tes gamins pendent les perquises, ces fils de putes Iront jusqu'a eventrer le camersa et l'ours
] Word on the streets is don't quit ya day job I own spots while you won't even get to own a spot I'm unconcious sippin' on that sugary Saint I-des Your
poetry carved in flesh This beautiful Hell of ours To the deadliest sin we confess (Tears of joy fill our eyes) We are safe where disfigured saints
) repeat 2x (Ha ha ha) (Bizarre's Verse) Back in the studio back on the block back in "Saint Andrews" got them hammers cocked nigga I don't get shot
Word on the streets is don't quit ya day job I own spots while you won't even get to own a spot I'm unconcious sippin' on that sugary Saint I-des Your
cook Be on the couch chilling, shorts on, reading a book Biting on a pen, thin glasses on French type frames by Yves Saint Laurent Say hey pretty mama