My Blacklist: If people don't dance they die Cathartic hand claps Dependent on words without sounds In the bitter end goodbye Fire paint at the canvas
Is this a cocaine summer? Or are you round about losing your belligerence? It is the sultan tumbler who double backs and gladly slaps the minister Tis
Melt out of breakdown hits, they make our fingers break yearning to attain a new hole and make a living in it Style's out of control Can I turn it now
Hey baby what a clich'd abuse that comes from all of our trappings and truths Valiant kings at the manor alone Upside down try to turn it around and
These past years, we've said so much that's unclear Let's look into the mind's realities I'm there, except I don't have long hair The Frankenstein implied
To wake up in nowhere and know every thing is alright A minimalistic that marries a mail order bride To listen to something and have it change your life
1983 in the year of our lord The Camero's kickin' The photograph it melts in his hand He's going faster Age 18 with the cute blonde curls The devil's
Now you're on your knees All alone, the belief in lies Downstairs Die to be in the spotlight Shift Glace piously Another stoned adolescent cry Live life
A million lives prepared to die Is it a song? The battle's on We take these drives and wonder why is it a song? Music lives on The taste of wine, piss
Orange earth and a Spanish sun, the paints still runny Nice day for castration of a brick red stallion Assume I'm a choirboy, cause I'm right here waiting
A burned down old barn where someone was king White washed city halls surrounded by the proceeds Old woman janitor, whose wishes are gold Forget all
