I won't say a word as I turn every light down in this town you won't hear me coming not the sound of my feet running to take you down these New York
Well i?m looking for some kind of anchor, someone to stand taller than me, to pull me up through these falling leaves. i?ve already got so much anger
I?ve gone and lost my sense of self right out the door And back down on the floor again I?m just glad that I?ve got my friends to stand at my back when
I wish that I could say the pain wasn?t enough to keep me awake some nights it was just to much for me to take This road is a dead end when all I want
I know it's late but I've been up for days we haven't spoken in far too long cause I have nothing left to say I'm a mess with all this constant stress
I?ve gone and lost my sense of self right out the door And back down on the floor again I?m just glad that I?ve got my friends to stand at my back
without warning," "Oh no," says the Sergeant. "I'll have no such chat, And neither will I take it from snappy young brats, For if you insult me with one other
sow the same seeds as each other?" "Then why not eat the grain that's fit for a king?" But on the throne? The king continued to enjoy all his luxuries With golden
sunshine rays Hell patiently awaiting him on blood spilled soil A noble grief stirred heart, always ready to die In sinister systematisation, submission is golden
gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws No more money, no more fancy dress This other Kingdom seems by far the best until its other
you missed your calling But hindsight is very clear when loneliness is falling And you have fallen down, down from the heavens Stuck out in the desert Amazing grace - such
I'm from the 80's, Home of the heroine, Error of the hustlers, uh The world is my custy New rich porter The way I flip quarters Front on all these other
and pass my troubles by. If I had known before I courted that love was such a killing thing I'd a-locked my heart in a box of golden and fastened it
tryin like hell to get some results But you can bet your ass that it's difficult They try to keep it down, because I talk to a beat in other words, because
it though songs and movies Banned the passion of the Christ, but endorse glocks and Uzis Then we wonder why are kids is dying, bullets flying Gangsta?s riding and gangs multiplying, at such
lifts her shades up her eyes get me shot back in our spot she?s rushing my blood paint my soul golden and I thank god for all we got it?s such a lot we
barizano I lay gently in the Bently through binoculars he seemed popular Givincci socks Cartier coolats H-class rocks and charms like Bohemians Sick like lukemians, receding hairlines Watch how genuine his gold
: PATRICK: magpie, was it you who stole the wedding ring? or what other thieving bird would steal such hope away? magpie, i am lost among the hinterland
