Follow the cracks that you are creating in the white wall in the blinding light look inside the deep crevices in the white wall in the blinding light
No place to go back to Life is lost, Flowers fall If it's all dreams Now wake me up If it's all real Just kill me I'm making the wall inside my heart
He was just some thug that, caught some slugs And we loved him cause, in him we, saw some of us He walked like ussss, talked like ussss His back against the wall
dear friend Edgar Edgar: It's been a long time, Roderick I've ridden many miles It's been a dull and soundless day for autumn The leaves have lost their
t go back no place to go back to life is lost. Flowers fall if its all dreams now wake me up If its all real just kill me I'm making the wall inside
s better after death if we suffer and pray Even though they fuck us off in this life today And that white Jesus hangin on the wall in church ain't a part
dollar sign across the seven seas the banner is white, blue ; red the locust's flight to swarm the dead a buzzing plague to cage the lost the spreading
missiles and warheads might not matter. To many people nuclear reality is too huge to contemplate, Yet for all people the reality looms constantly in
that Sometimes he'll watch a war-film On the moron machine in the corner of his cell Lost in time Lost in mind Cyril writhes like smoke His bigot's eyes
sun is drifting slowly A dead end street Behind the walls Outside the rain keeps falling The candlelight resists the storm Dancing pictures on the wall
been lost taken last breath Descent to darkness life forever left Imprisoned awaiting the second death Incarcerate in a solid rock cell Facing the reality
above the earth I felt the breeze of the world What was lost I should have retrieved What was real Was long gone within of me Crimson tide A wave of lost
he was just some thug that Caught some slugs and we loved him 'cause, in him we, saw some of us He walked like us, talked like us his back against the wall
planet, where nightmares that become reality witness the brutality its poetry in the streets of the big apple you get tackled and grappled to the floor, white
planet with nightmares that become reality Witness the brutality There's poetry in the streets of the big apple You get tackled And grappled to the floor, white
Inner North London, top floor flat All white walls, white carpet, white cat, Rice Paper partitions Modern art and ambition The host?s a physician, Lovely
