Do you pray to someone new When you're locked up in the rock Is the golden age dead and gone Are the hands stuck on the clock Can you talk to Buddy's
Don't believe the mirror Cause mirrors sometimes lie If you wanna see the way you look to me look into my eyes you are beautiful to me from without and
S I, travellin, handlin with a forty-five cannon It's tucked in my Marc Buchanan Extra clips and shells in the lambskin Two deep by Pelle Pelle Westside
be doin' like, just beats for local acts just to try to keep the lights on, and then to go out and buy get a Pelle Pelle off lay-away, get some Jordans
my Michelin S I, travellin, handlin with a forty-five cannon It's tucked in my Marc Buchanan Extra clips and shells in the lambskin Two deep by Pelle Pelle
ITA'S AN INSTRUMENTAL SONG, SO THERE IS NO LYRICS
She's a real ball-buster, don't trust her She's in a most peculiar phase You can rear end her oh it'll send her She wants you, she'll have you her own
Well, I'm running away From this house on the hill There's a devil inside Sitting on the window sill And it's a wild Friday night And I'm all on my own
You say that all you want are the simple things Long walks on lonely beaches, guitars with nylon strings But underneath you'd rather leap through a hoop
Without you I no longer swim upstream Where are you when I try to fill the spaces in between The red letter days and all the pain And while I remain shipwrecked
Here am I standing by To see if you still love me Why conceal? You still feel The need to push and shove me Take love for better, take love for worse
Nobody left in the airport lounge They cleaned the ashtrays TV's just wound down I've got to wait till morning I've got to last the night I've only got
Do you pray to someone new When you're locked up in the rock? Is the golden age dead and gone Are the hands stuck on the clock? Can you talk to Buddy
Well, I'm work shy, I'm wild-eyed So shut that door when the baby cries Keep me well fed, give me warm bread Lay my body on a feather bed And spoil me
It's so hard to say goodbye When there's nothing left to give When this house is just a hill of bones Where you and I once lived If we put it back together
The weather man he looks confused Shakes his fist at the sky like you used to do But you don't remember things like that do you? The balance was uneven
We all have a second skin (Sometimes it's superficial) From without or from within (Can be beneficial) When you have your second skin (All of it essential
