up, rest inside Ink spills on paper, paper spells my blood Ink spills on paper, paper spells my blood The hair on the back of your neck stands up Ink
Prevod: Finch. Ink.
up, rest inside Ink spills on paper, paper spells my blood. Ink spills on paper, paper spells my blood. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. Ink
poetic madness drains from my mind. you've fucked me there too many times. heart in throat. I'm all choked up. I wish I was. now give me sanity. this
this is how we rock. yeah. this is our revolution. yeah. this is not noise. this is the sound we want. this is the movement. this is the sound of music
halo, but not will this angel watch over my shoulder. how long will I hide behind this pen and how long will you wait for me. I guess until the ink runs
the piano players dead. someone shot him in the head. I want to make sweet love to his fucking music. who would've wanted the show to end this early?
swallow me as I become a living blaspheme. force fed by your tyrant. choke on the lies of the ancients. so you are the demon to design my fate. disguise
I know you can move in that black velvet. yeah. so move for me in that velvet dress. the sweet taste you'll leave on me. tainted with that kiss. bite
she's a pretty girl. she's a model in the studio. she's a beauty queen. she's a knockout. she's my beauty queen. she's a fucking knockout. blonde bombshell
I want to taste you naked on the fucking floor. so drink up my love. it's your night my love. you can't feel the bang on an empty stomach. wow. yeah.
no motive here. he could've been programmed to kill. the beatles just died. today a plane flew over lennon and london came crashing down. today we say
