: Encore une nuit noire Et je n?ai pas envie la De devenir Qu?un adulte imparfait Mais est-ce que c?est vrai ca? Qu?on sera pire Que dans nos reves
(Instrumental)
Encore une nuit noire Et je n?ai pas envie la De devenir Qu?un adulte imparfait Mais est-ce que c?est vrai ca? Qu?on sera pire Que dans nos reves
It?s hard to close your eyes in this water ghost town. Everything is sterile. Nothing here is still. Swaying in the bay. Ignoring voices rambling on.
Is today fact or fiction? You've told me the plot and expect me to still play the role. You talk round in circles, despite the shape and reputation that
: Is today fact or fiction? You've told me the plot and expect me to still play the role. You talk round in circles, despite the shape and reputation
Music/Lyrics by: P. Wagner] In her diary's black pages the stories end in dark sadness and what she never dared to say is in her diary's black pages
All we had is the distance of time She's gone for a little while they said They said She's gone for a little while they said It's the thoughts beneath the pages
That my love's run dry (I don't wanna cry again...) ...So I read to myself A chance of a lifetime to see new horizons On the front page A black and
shit like Skip Bayless You looking for these shoes baby you can skip payless Lifestyle A-list, young black and famous Bunch of bad bitches in an Ipod playlist Just anothger page
im in a state walkin the streets of gate with eyes of merd with tears stream down my bloodshot face coz some irish kid took my bike away turn the page
feel like, Short days, long nights, By the phone, no call, Need a clear mind 'cause I been blind, got me goin' down that road, Heart made of stone, Far away from home, Black
when they hear My firm, black boots with no spurs attached Now let me take a second, cause I might detach My black boots if you confuse I lose my peoples
bass low, coming down from below, Tell me what a sissy know. Funkin lesson is a new flow stalking walking in my big black boots. Living off the earth
[Professor X:] (In the ways of the scale) The plug has been lifted from the unjoint jar All cascade of black, perfume of the hour (In the ways of the