Or on the corner sippin 'gnac out of a brown paper bag Out to join the dead
But hair on a tin whistle sure I never saw before Sensations so unreal Now, e'where I pass und er kehrte nicht mehr heim -
And if tomorrow brings a lonely day
Were the gods and goddesses...ever so in love
everyone in line waiting too
der gro+èen Freiheit entgegen.
Suppose itÔÇÖs quite normal that I saw a lot
'Cause time is running out says the clock on the wall
You must be the dream, I've been dreamin' of
fakers,
Into our trench they fall
juss how special beehin in love can beehÔÇŽ
und fragt, ob sie sich aufdr+¥ngt
und es ist nie zu sp+¥t,
He says, "If even you could, I don't advise that you should
I'll be your source of pain
Then I thought about my mama
Bloody, was black
Een stap bezegelt mijn lot
He resolved with all his legions to dislodge
cause a nigga like the E was finally caught
This can't be real
You mean us: It won't touch me
i wish that i could turn to dust
Monsieur Gaston, quel beau gar+žon.
And take a shower
bis endlich ich sehe deine Segel dort
we did in our own way
Hey, yo whassup?
Learn to suffer what you hate.