: Oh no feels like I'm falling Away from myself Outside feels like it's calling Calling...
Oh no, feels like I'm falling Away from myself Outside feels like it's calling Calling, calling, calling, calling Calling, calling, calling, calling
Oh no feels like I'm falling Away from myself Outside feels like it's calling Calling...
Übersetzung: Unsere. Außerhalb.
Christian Listen, I went through MAMA BITCHIN in and out the kitchen With probable causeS, PAPA WAS IN AND out OF prison You got soldiers, but you still gotta respect ours
Now on the street tonight the lights grow dim The walls of my room are closing in There's a war outside still raging, you say it ain't ours anymore to
the bone To feed the king's mass addictions and treasures But from the dust arose a man, known as Jonas He said, "Men, be not divided in tongues," "This land is ours
: (originally by Don Henley) I got the call today, I didn't wanna hear But I knew that it would come An old true friend of ours was talkin' on the phone
shit, even when he rhyme in third person Hova the God, I should be rappin with turban Haters can't disturb him, waiters can't serve him Mike Jordan of rap - outside
: Saw him on a Friday outside some run down saloon he was cryin over someone that he felt left much too soon I said, hey boy don't you cry tonight let
you up When I close the door. This old house of ours is built on dreams And a businessman don't know what that means. There's a garden outside she works
: There might be something outside your window but you'll just never know There could be something right past the turnpike gates but you'll just never
et toute l?histoire? ca reste dehors? dans cette chambre il y a seulement un ours qui fait ron ron? Where?s the glory? Where?s the story? all, outside
: (by Farm Dogs) What's outside We don't need in here Trash the headlines, smash the TV Get rid of everything except you and me I've had it up to here
of dirt It?s amazing Out in the park For sale, forgetfulness, At a new price I saw it advertised on T.V. But all the children were busy outside,
round the time a friend of ours, Little Steven, was putting together a record of artists against apartheid. This is a song written about a man in a shanty town outside
