Lost Art Of Murder Lyrics - Shotter's Nation - Babyshambles

Roll a four, roll a nine 

Find yourself washed up in paradise 

Like before you didn't mind 

Someone else washed up in paradise, everyday 

What a nice day for a murder 

Yourself a killer but the only thing you're killing is your time 

There's nothing absurder than a burd' 

It's a burden to your heart, soul, body, spirit and mind 

Don't look back at me like that, she won't take you back 

I said too much, been too unkind 

Get off your back, stop smoking that 

Change your life, just might change her mind, her mind 

Roll a four, roll a nine 

Find yourself washed up in paradise 

All the fours to all the nines 

I lost my phone in paradise, pay as you go 

What a nice day for a murder 

Say you're a killer, I think you're killing is time 

There's nothing absurder than a burd' 

It's a burden to your heart, soul, body, spirit and mind 

Oh, don't look at me like that, she won't take you back 

Done too much, been too unkind 

Get up off your back, stop smoking that 

Change your life, think it'll change her mind 

Don't look at me like that, she won't take you back 

Said too much, been too unkind 

Get up off your back, stop smoking that 

Change your life, just might change her mind