The Nothing Book - Superstition | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• The Nothing Book
• Superstition

Angel, come to me tomorrow
I wish to look at your grace.
This is your superstition and your sick imagination.
I plan to begin the mob law
I’ll punish every terrible face
This is your superstition and your sick imagination.
I want you to help me in someway
We’ll try together to kick his ass
This is your superstition and your fucking imagination.
Let us begin on Sunday
The list was defined and you’re fucking next

Angel, answer me!
Why before to fire off in a head, pity appears?
Because you are mad, but not villain
Perhaps, but how can I get rid of this shit?
This shits is mine, fuck off!

Say to me please a telephone number
I will call to tell the date of your death
I’ll destroy your superstitions and all these sick fictions
You are ready to work wonders
Who is responsible for the health?
I’ll destroy your superstitions and all these sick fictions
When I’ll wake up on handbarrow
You will thank me that you survived
I’ll destroy your superstitions and all these fucking fictions
Let’s start again on Sunday
The list was defined and I fucking next