Babyshambles - Lost Art Of Murder | Текст песни

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• Babyshambles
• Lost Art Of Murder

Could roll a four
Could roll a nine
Find yourself washed up in paradise

Just like before
She never used to mind
I lost my phone in paradise

What a nice day for a murder
You call yourself a killer boy but the only thing your killing is your time
There's nothing absurder
Burden's just a burden
To your heart your soul the body, spirit and mind

Don't look at me like that
She won't take you back
You said to much
You been to unkind
Get up off your back
Stop smoking that
You could change your life
Do you think you'll change your mind

Could roll a four
Could roll a nine
Find yourself washed up in paradise

No light before
No light behind
Someone else washed up in paradise

What a nice day for a murder
You call yourself a killer the only thing your killing is time
It's nothing absurder
Burden's just a burden
To your heart your soul the body, spirit and mind

Don't look at me like that
She won't take you back
You said to much
You been to unkind
Get up off your back
Stop smoking that
You could change your life
Do you think you'll change your mind


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