want to see you and I just want to hear you And I just need to feel you I just want to see you and I just want to hear you And I just need to feel you
feel, don't keep it from me Show me how it outta be through more than a stare I just want to see you And I just want to hear you And I just need to feel
Traduction: Des sols. Besoin de se sentir.
corridors of my life. Tricky and Martina: And when you walk, do you walk to your preference No need to answer 'till... Tricky: I take further evidence. I seem to need
the alley Out in Cali niggaz rally others all for the soil Mix the work with bakin soda and get the water to boil OH NO can't no busters hang, I hope you feel
with a pistol With pistols. Feel that the verbal 'll Serve you. Heard my words Are satanic and wishful Then see you all get pissed off My generals need no horse We need
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America And to the Republic for which it stands One nation under God Indivisible... It feels so
hands in soil Pops moved drugs in capsules and foils I foiled your plans and made you aware And turned America's dream into a nightmare Yeah, you feel
both Chelsea and France I play one mean guitar and then score at the bar There's a line of chicks waiting for their chance So come on now honey, I'll make you feel
and then share Constantly relying on consuming to feel content But only because we lost such with this home that we've spent Trillions of dollars paying for our wants and not our needs
sludge lots of revised sentences Defense budgets padded by sandbags and sandwiches Wasted Drag this baggage Hold this Damage Cope the best that we can manage Want solutions Needs
cling I don't know where else i can go - over and over..... Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling
(Words by Morrissey, Music by Johnny Marr) (Originally performed by The Smiths) Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head And as I climb into
? don't you need some of this? you shove your hair down my throat I feel your fingers in me tear this bitter fruit to mess and wrap it in your soiled
blow his whistle please. Cause I smell frost on cotton leaves and I feel that Southern breeze. Hey porter! Hey porter! Please get my bags for me. I need
