Love, Robot - S.O.S. | Текст песни

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• Love, Robot
• S.O.S.

S.O.S
Selling our souls
We search for a place that
We could call home (I pineapple)
We’re sick of the useless truth
That could explain our wasted youth
Things to put our faith into
Recently carved stone
Look at the carved stone
Wonder what your body lies cold
We fight our own battles
We waited through the strife
Never to falter from the one that is our life
Selling our souls
We search for a place that
We could call home (we could call home)
This is our time now!
S.O.S

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