No, it's not the heathen in me
It's just that I've been bleeding lately
So turn to me
But bite your tongue, your torrid weapon ...
I could learn a useful lesson
What's so great about the great depression?
Was it a blast to you?
Because it's blasphemy
Wish I was here,
Well, I wish you weren't
Your gift of anger's better burnt
If nothing's said then nothing's learnt
I thought I wasn't, but I'm really hurting
Our deaf and dumb dinners,
There's gravy in the mud ...
Letra añadida por: ©®øsby (léø..émø)MCR