two for one at the backstreet market, an eyesore, an eyesore. never left, forgetting colors, a race card, erased bars. pretty boy in a room full of noise, an earache, come feel this. hurt dirt is getting closer, a new kill, same old thrill. and i know murder, we shared some handshakes, not gonna tell you that i've understood. his grip was firmer, prouder than ever, braile was the only think he understood. hey, i've killed on sunday. new independence and my favorite authors, i'll kiss twain and cobain. sign me up and i'll keep your secret, still not proud, still not proud. now we know murder comes with a louis bag, their gonna fill it til they understand, i never promised a revolution, here take this moon it will understand. hey, i've killed on sunday. i never promised you the moon.
Гуру Песен