Lord, I'm a working man And music is my trade I'm travelin' with this five-piece band I play the ace of spades I have a wife and family Who don't see
When syllables go soundless The sensation kills you To the brink of burning From the fill of your filth Through the lacking of skill While walking through
Blinded behind walls of Self built stained glass Focus enters eyes well watered At last, the eyes with vision split Hewn end to end, life force leaked
The gathering now of storms within That whip and rip the stead, joined at the head Dying to make ready for the deliverance to the land The swarming devourers
I will not bear to watch While the animated sadness releases A cyanide touch for us So utterly devastating its measure glides The breath that is born
So salvation, here runs the flood, here dies the love The banner of the ungranted and our darkest days The feelings that were forced Out of fear without
Can you hear us when we scream Of our burdened beliefs ending all sanity? The wrong to right indeed I wonder The promise to break instead to suffer Can
There is an aftertaste to celebrate In the swings of my suicide Or the lines I will draw by myself Within the grasp, fictitious pasts and all my doubts
No sounds yet echoes in the room. Loud voices telling lies to their own truth. Here's something for you to write down in your journal. (Never wanted to
I'm the cries The cries of all the weak I'm the lies The lies that feed you (for) years I'm the dreams The dreams that fade as time pass I'm the drug
The cat sleeps in the red chair My lover combs her jet black hair There's mystery in a way of walking It's witching hour no need to talk And there are
On me cherche sans jamais me trouver J'attire et j'attise des desirs inavoues Comme le poison que l'on redoute Je me dessine dans l'ombre d'un doute L
Throw yourself in front of this, before it goes to long. Ask the questions that you want, when they all seem wrong. Because I saw you first drift
Ya vine de donde andaba se me consedio volver a mi se me afiguraba que no te volveria a ver pareces amapolita cortarda al amanecer Si por que vengo de
Garde la foi, frero Faut y croire, frere Des freres partent Pour nos disparus Des freres partent Victimes de la rue Des freres partent Pour nos disparus
Cielo porque te me nublas cuando mas quiero mirarla cielo porque me la escondes entre relampagos y agua si ando por ella en las nubes y a ti no te importa
Absent Friends Absent friends, here's to them And happy days, we thought that they would never end. Here's to absent friends. Little Jean Seberg seemed
Qu'elle est lourde a porter l'absence de l'ami, L'ami qui tous les soirs venait a cette table Et qui ne viendra plus, la mort est miserable, Qui poignarde