ulcered blood and cements in the fear until the Next time Your senses seem unclear only one thing appears the prison safety that is your Own Quiet cold
译文: 十二月. 安静的冷.
a hangin' day for him Now people say that Johnny was a bad man and that he had a aim for bein' mean He took a hatchet one cold weary morning he killed
wishing their brothers to the light wind blows quiet when man is sleeping once he arises the fire burns again an azure dusk in december the month
to tell If I'll fly out tomorrow If I'll see her tomorrow I hope that I will No place like alone And no sound like my own voice Fading into The quiet December
On a cold night, late December As the snow fell to earth That's the one night, we remember When a woman gave birth And for miles and miles around The
never cause too much fear But let me tell you about one that will chill your very soul It happens in December when it's snowin' and it's cold In Oklahoma
fuckin' dicks They get their kicks from being pricks It's a quirk, we just can't fix 'Cause all cartoons are fuckin' dicks ?So he?s the cold prick?? ?
for the whole damn summer from freinds to best freinds to part time lovers now you're moving in the first date of september i can remmember when i saw you back in december it was so cold
the meteor's how it's perceived And the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee You came and lay a cold compress
' dicks They get their kicks from being pricks It's a quirk, we just can't fix 'Cause all cartoons are fuckin' dicks Peter: ?So he?s the cold prick??
It happened one day near December's end Two neighbors called on an old friend And they found his shop so meager and lean Made gay with thousand bows of
She burned the dirty linens, made a fresh bed Laid sleeping first son down and never made a sound As she purged her scourge with birth blood and quiet
meteor's how it's perceived And the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee You came and lay a cold compress upon
same struggles you are right now and it's probably me I remember December middle of a bitter winter Ass on the trunk feet swinging by the fender Arguing with you in the freezing cold
the dirty linens Made a fresh bed Laid sleeping First Son down And never made a sound As she purged her scourge With birth-blood and quiet tears Watching
It happened one day near December's end Two neighbors called on an old friend And they found his shop so meager and lame Made gay with a thousand bows
