She shut your eyes. Now you could say better luck next time. But I know you're about to die. How deep can you drill into a man's soul. Still say better luck next time.
It's not enough to be afraid. Of the mess I made when the colors fade. So pick me up before I hit the ground. . It's not enough to realize. When you close your eyes and it's no surprise.
Come down from the ceiling. Oh, these pills were made for feeling. Oh, so divine. . I've got a lump in my throat. Oh, so I'll keep hold of hope. Oh yeah.
Big stretch and not much sleep. With a big palm tree rubbin' against my cheek. I got a bright blue Saturday. And the rummage sellin' the rubbish to me.
Big stretch and not much sleep. I got a couple of palm trees on each side of my cheek. And it's a bright blue Saturday. And the rummage sells the rubbish to me.
Big stretch and not much sleep. I got a couple of palm trees on each side of my cheek. And it's a bright blue Saturday. And the rummage sells the rubbish to me.
The clothesline of cold eyes. Is washing away the face before. Now tell me what's wrong you see everyone's gone. You gotta do your best to decorate this dying day, this dying day.
How come, girl was there when I needed one. How come, girl was there when the song is done. Some say, open your eyes to a brighter light. Okay, open my hart and never lie.
There's a price you will pay when you're on top of the world. Oh, when everyone wants to be your friend or companion. There's a fine line between your own heaven and hell.
I've got to buy some shoes. These ones are getting loose. My feet are shrinking in the sun and it ain't fun. But it looks like rain up ahead in forty miles.
Ever have the feelin',. of maybe blowin' your face upon the ceilin'?. Have you ever stopped to wonder what your life might feel like. down, down, down, down, way under?.
Does it ever seem like you're living in a story someone else wrote. Everything you've done was all scripted out. Getting thrown in all directions but the path I want isn't there.
No time frame, for what I need to do today. Here at the Yellow House. I think that I'm gonna play. With some free livin' lads down the street. Away's away.
No time frame, for what I need to do today. Here at the Yellow House. I think that I'm gonna play. With some free livin' lads down the street. Away's away.
I'll make a shoehorn outta your shin. I'll make a lampshade of durable skin. And, oh, don't you know that I'm always feelin' able. When I'm sittin' home and I'm carving out your navel?.
As I shit, I sit and wonder why my floor is so cold and my back broken tired. But life is good, even though it won't be long. With a candle comes emotions that dance with the shadows on my wall.
In a wonderland inside garbage heap. The perfect life form means a shit. The sun goes down with our tomorrow. I don't remember my mission, my roots.. We live just day by day.
Raised to be. Placed among scared-confused minds. Became one of those without realizing. Not the one-who used to be. Slowly turned somwhere else, some place.
Could not keep it alive. So melodies are out of tune. Samples of dead. Used for recreation. But the clones don't have the spirit. That we used to hear singing inside.
On the bottom of the box.. At the end of the bill. On the side of the screen. On the side of the page. . It is there,. Written.. 'Cause it. Cannot be hidden..