And leaves you Slumped against the night They captured you, chopped off your hand Left for dead And buried your body in sun-soaked sand Fly home Is
Traduction: L'Église. Fly Home.
the truth Ya'll know how I do it when I gets up in the booth I'm a go hard till I chip my fucking tooth In a fly murder four door of coof Yeah I get
I'ma get you And have your mama in church, word for word reading scriptures [Yung Redd] Don't let me grab the chrome, and break up a happy home Long
home boys might squabble but we don't fall down (never) Hahaha Yeah Huh My home boys might squabble but we don't fall down Ugh Yeah My home boys
long time ago came a man on a track walking thirty miles with a pack on his back and he put down his load where he thought it was the best made a home
For just a Skyline Pigeon Dreaming of the open Waiting for the day He can spread his wings And fly away again Fly away skyline pigeon fly Towards the
world Home of the pocket stones Home of the booty songs Home of the fingerwave that lasts All night long Home of the On & On Home of the dominoes Home
train, Fall in love, probably fly on a plane Get to work all week and spend what he earns On the high street He's got doctors, nurses, fireman, churches
wake up with a dry pillow Gone but not forgotten, homes I still feel you So, curse the day that birthed the bastard who caused your church mass, reverts
Greetings From Tim Buckley', tribute concert at St.Ann's Church, New York, April 26 1991) I never asked to be your mountain I never asked to fly Remember
see the eyes gleam I think we at an all time high To get there we run, we fly, we drive Coz with my family we know where home is So instead of sending
comin' home) So the MPC's and the MP3's is fightin over his turf Sean Don just gave birth But she's thinkin' bout leavin it on the doorstep of a church