me again I never wanna cry like this Die like this" No more favors my old friend I never wanna cry like this Die like this Cry like this And die
Übersetzung: Kraftstoff. Die Like This.
on me again I never want to cry like this Die like this No more favors my old friend I never want to cry like this Die like this And so we danced alone
call on me again I never want to cry like this Die like this No more favors my old friend I never want to cry like this Die like this And so we danced
away please cut me in pieces on your liar?s chair the air is getting thin and words inside your ears keep on echoing just like everything you do is just egoism?s fuel
up Dear mama, I'm caught up in this sickness I rob my adversaries, but Slick done left a witness Wonder if they'll catch me, or will this nigga snitch
: Mama don't understand she wants to hold my hand Night and day She don't like my clothes They're wearing thin On her nerves She don't like my hair My
: How crass you stand before me With no blood to fuel your fame How dare you weild such flippancy without requisite shame Your very existence becomes
as she sheds through her skin touch like taste like fire hands to know what i no longer defend hands to fuel desire i'll be fine, you'll be fine this
park you heard the Robin's Song Heavy tractor runs where air was clean and cool make money, bringing fuel. Where will this lead to and what is this
night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines Sprung from cages out on highway 9, Chrome wheeled, fuel injected and steppin' out over the line Baby this
like Berny, I used to be weak and nerdy but now I'm Diesel like the typer fuel Highway to hell but they didn't teach me this in driving school, You giant
life. It's my life. I can't go every day with being sober. It gets kind of hard trying to cope With this devil on my shoulder. (Belbian?) some soda Like
s my life. It's my life. I can't go every day with being sober. It gets kind of hard trying to cope with this devil on my shoulder. (Belbian?) some soda like
t ever lookin' back; yeah, yo And I got this joint on my keyboard starin' back at me Like you ain't gone be happy 'til you puff on this fatty Smoke five
until our destruction we're gonna be just fine... Put passion to this pen in hopes of something beautiful But there's nothing pure that ever could or ever would come of this
and holy is like the deer to a dying hind; Wordless - yet in soul so true Nameless - yet it lives in you Shapeless - like the purity of pain Lawful -
