my purpose to toil harder Tryin' to make good off my honor 'Til a hater really make me a martyr Kiss my, gonna miss my daughters Hope I taught my seeds proper I love my
basketball Just as my nephew, he had a gift that was special But instead at least seein him with a scholarship I'm lookin at him in the funeral parlor
haze, but I do recall my funeral, them lowering me in, it was about that time when my soul kicked back in. I tried to move my fingers or somethin,
after that it's a haze But I do recall my funeral, them lowering me in It was about that time, when my soul kicked back in I tried to move my fingers
my reason is legit im havin fits, i dream of eatin bloody pussy clits since i was 6 i fiend for dead pussy on my dick i got the skits meanin
Picture postcard honesty In the land of hopeless dreams That man in my sitting room Only lives behind the screen Oh, look at me happily In this third
beasts remains With fire, I feed it to the flames The corpse is laughing and burning, Its mind is shrunken and torn, My life revolves around the heartbeat Of its dark
, cower in candlelight The panic seeps through bloodstained floors as grendel stalks the night Earth rim walker seeks his meals Prepare the funeral pyres
to me, my last hope, my last dream And on my last breath, I will tell you this You are my sunrise and my sunset, my best friend Who I would share my
but I made it, so I'm never concerned About what they be talkin' about, I've lived and I've learned With my dream and my drive, I determined my turn In
she's different when it's just me and her And I closed the door and I tried to hang on And she sank into the dark, I was over my head There was always
darkness and beauty of funerals death above her, whispering low a cold and strange tongue she doesn't know love confessions? so soft in her ear "become my bride my
And Wing and Willy wrote 'em up a song. They saida?¦ CHORUS: It's dark in here; can't see the sky But I look at this blue wing and I close my eyes
the blood in my vampire heart I'll be the thorns in every wound You will send my hope I am the nightmare waking you up From the dream of the dream of
It's raining again in Silverlake And I need to hear my song The one that puts me in the mood To spill my guts and talk to you Saves me from my self-inflicted
seems To be written on your wrist Along with several thousand dreams Now, Santa Claus comes forward That's a razor in his mitt And he puts on his dark
me bleed All alone in my funeral home Playing in blood there's just got to be Something wrong with me Draining veins, it's all the same The torture in my
the songs of Drynhwyl Chasing the wind, like my spirit die Dreaming of the queen, the queen of roses Now they die, pure sorrow flow My souls funeral,