I’m Low On Gas And You Need A Jacket
Choke, try to wash it down with something strong
Dry but the taste of blood remains
Cold, empty mattresses and falling stars
My, how they start to look the same
So keep in happiness
And torture me while I tell you,
"Let's go in style"
A million hooks around
A million ways to die
Darling, it's cold outside
No, no more eyes to see the sun
You slide into bed while I get drunk
Slow conversations with a gun
Mean more than I've ever said to anyone
So keep in happiness
And torture me while I tell you,
"Let's go in style"
A million hooks around
A million ways to die
Darling, let's go inside
It'll be alright
But last night, you said you ended up in Palm Springs dancing on tables
Almost fought some bitch at the club
Got kicked out of your hotel and lost your shoes
Well, fuck, what am I supposed to be, impressed?
You're just another set of bones to lay to rest
I guess it’s time to say goodnight, I hope you had a really good time
Good time
I’ll soon forget the color of your eyes and you’ll forget mine
So keep in happiness
And torture me while I tell you,
"Let's go in style"
A million hooks around
A million ways to die
Let's go outside
It'll be alright
But last night, you said you ended up in Palm Springs dancing on tables
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И снова дождь льёт по мостовым реками Ленивыми потоками и грозы саундтреками Закрывает людей по домам, стучит водою по окнам В душу проникая к нам, возможно где-то там Где ты светит безумно яркое солнце Но
По Высокой Траве (Feat. Офицеры группы «Альфа»)
Сколько зим, сколько лет Сколько вод утекло Сколько жизней прошло без меня Сколько жизней ушло от меня Я вернулся домой, а виски сединой Припорошило в дальних краях Да и грудь вся в сплошных орденах По высокой, высокой
Ще
Світ за склом моїх очей Тисне на мене, кудись летить, По губах, як мед тече І біля ніг мов собака спить. Світ за склом моїх очей Йде кожен день на нову війну. Підійма мене з нікчем, Щоб
Dead Flowers
(originally by The Rolling Stones) Well when you're sitting there in your silk upholstered chair Talkin' to some rich folk that you know Well I hope you won't see me in my ragged
It’s Who You Know
The quarterback down at the school makes all the rules 'Cause he's super cool And everybody wants to be just like him There's a little girl in his homeroom class Sits in the back
