her dull imagination That floats around the twilight of her tomb Clutching her little treasures That represent a happy moment Displayed with sad affection in her
Übersetzung: Soft Cell. Ihre Imagination.
be to test me and expose their futility? Iron like a lion from Zion stop tryin' so hard I think I smell your brain cells fryin' The family's behind you
her eyes again Waves all her worries goodbye Pushing the hair back from her face Shaping her thoughts in the sky Heaven is through her kitchen window
that soft shit Im encoding the proper topics to cover Even started a non-for-profit organization to kill you under I chop prison's in half, and split cells
