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Mark Lanegan Band feat. Wendy Rae Fowler - Bombed | Текст песни

Love, there are flowers hanging in the vine,
So high, you cannot see.
Now my mind must go on holiday,
Torn from its hook, a broken valentine.

I see the smoke from a revolver.
Will I get hit? I hardly care.
When I'm bombed I stretch like bubblegum
And look too long straight at the morning sun.

Love, there are flowers along the avenue,
All things perfectly in place.
I build a shrine, I set a monument,
Because you're fire, because you're a fire escape .

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