) (c) am c As you look into an invisible landscape Dm7 c And the waves of time part behind your back G As your life crumbles and turns into fiction
could only give her less, It could be more if she learned to never expecting now if she it's her and him and then a baby next. The wedding bells won't
'cause you can't adjust To a saccharine suburb in the mush I've got some lovin' arms around me Darker than the tombs of Egypt Dumber than the crudest fiction
your sinus Countin my cash, plus mount my stash Dump the cigarette ash on low-down trash Marley's car is two-toned, and it's ended with chrome And the Bell
ve sailed for years, And we find ourselves upon this beach Searching for some beast from the realms of fiction, It's a wild addiction for something we'll never reach. (Bellman
she says She says "Hon, drop dead, I'd rather go to bed with Gabriel Garcia Marquez" Cuddle up with William S. Burroughs, leave on the light for bell
a tiny coat I said "Hey man, do you think you can help?" He said "Of course I can - I'm an elf We're not just fictional device We sail ravines and give
So, step right up and take a shot at the status quo Oh, and let me introduce you to some good God fearin' folk Hear the church bells ring, listen to
want me to up close and smiling no seperate bills she's fantastic so fantastic like this this is a catsuit of fifteen colours faxed invitation to oblivion with bells
Wonder how we got so far? Do you remember who you are? Wanted just to make you proud But never thought about you The only love I've ever had Is with
d?Adam C?est le printemps Les tours d?acier Quarante-deuxieme rue Millieme avenue L?armee du salut Y a pas d?horizon (C?est de la science-fiction) Grand
resto lucido carico di storie in merito tonico animo la festa l'apri pista da costa a costa che belle tipe gusta adesso basta bello perche sei tu che
Alexander Graham Bell Alexander Bell, Graham Modern life would sure be mayhem Without tetrahedral cells X-rays, faxes, decibels I think I?d say, and it?s no fiction
and turmoil Uh ooh We been in bondage for years For how long? Trapped up in the ghetto Yea that's true Dang, I got a dream though Fiction Tryin to make
... A breath of rockets shone like torches. Boss we got a problem the people will not listen their ears are full of cranks, bells, pully's, wheels, and bolts Automated fiction
m proud to be [D.M.C.] Black, god damn, I'm tired my man Don't worry bout what color I am Because I'll show you how ill, this man can act It could never be fiction