Lisa used to love to dance. Ever since she was ten years old. Her bare feet raising dust on a yard. Where the grass wouldn't grow. . Slowly spinning round and round.
Her hair was as black as pike county cold. And her lips were as red as blood on the snow. She wore short vinyl skirts and them boots to her knees. And she lived in the holler across the mountain from me.
Holy Water. Words and Music Chris Foster. January 1, 2003. Strumming all my toys. Is like drinking holy water. Making lots of noise. Is like drinking holy water.
I'm staring out into the night,. Trying to hide the pain.. I'm going to the place where love. And feeling good don't ever cost a thing.. And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain..
I'm staring out into the night, trying to hide the pain. I'm going to the place where love. And feeling good don't ever cost a thing. And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.
I pulled up to a cattle yard. Got on out opened up the gate. I drove down the long dirt road. To the banks of an old 2 acre lake. We had bonfires and barbed wire.
I need - I need to be rescued. Is there anyone - anyone. Who will show me. The face of happiness. When my whole world is crashing away-away-away. . No super hero shows up when I'm calling.
Inyectndo adrenalina en tu sangre. Programando virus en tu sien. Insertando acoples en el aire. Oxido vencido del ayer. Decibeles snicos brutales. Ya viciado oxgeno fatal.
You tried to stand in my way. Pushing me, pushing me to fail. Nothing was good enough for you. Now the tables have turned. And its your lesson learned.
Baby dont cry, I'll be by your side. No need to fear, of the unknown. We made it, all the way to this. So get off your knees. . Six feet and counting, no where but down.
(backwards CD Intro). You think you're alive motherfucker?. You're just the walking fucking dead.. You're fucking sheep, stepping on my back to stay alive..
Echoes start as a cross in you,. Trembling noises that come too soon. Spatial movement which seems to you,. Resonating your mask or feud. Hollow talking and hollow girl,.
I don't tell no tales about no hot dusty roads. I'm a city boy and I stay at home. I make no excuses I just don't want to roam. And I don't like being alone.
I went to Lolla with my mom. And my mom met everyone. And I talked to Henry Rollins. And he talked to my mom. And my mom says, "He's no fun". Henry Rollins is no fun.
We the people are gathering to say. That here on this day we're taking. Taking what's rightfully ours. . This war will tear apart the sky. Letting through the light.
I come from down in the catacombs of the opera house. I hide my face while I long for her. While I long for her lovely voice. Oh, I long for her lovely voice.