Lyrics:
There's a house on the hill
We used to dream of
But no one lives there anymore
They were taken by the dream of a better life
On the 50th floor
93, tribunal de Boboch
Cace-déd à Montreuil, Saint-Ouen, tous les reufs du Blankok
Je vous ai promis, je vous oublie pas
Un petit de chez toi qui
and a back that´s strong
You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don´t you call me ´cause I can´t go
I
and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
I
je rodina, zmrde yzo man-dias
Teprve teď budu baller
More chcem každej dollar
Goyard a Yves Saint-Laurent (Balenciaga)
Dávej si pozor teprve teď budu
comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
With your sheets like metal and your belt
still alive, you're lookin' like a saint"
Down the hallway footsteps were comin' for the Jack of Hearts
The backstage manager was pacing all around by
comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
With your sheets like metal and your belt
still alive, you're lookin' like a saint"
Down the hallway footsteps were comin' for the Jack of Hearts
The backstage manager was pacing all around by
as toast
And you gonna flip when Old Saint Nick
Blows a lick on the peppermint stick
He'll come a flyin' from a higher place
And fill the stocking by
Press your fingers on it, igniting what you are
Meet me by the lake
I'm ripe with severed faith
You wear the only scar
If I'm saint, then
"Go on"
He could've
Should've loved 'em all one by one
He wasn't a saint, but he wasn't a bad man
In his defense, he never asked to be born
He
as toast
And you gonna flip when Old Saint Nick
Takes a lick on the peppernint stick
He'll come a flyin' from a higher place
And fill the stocking by
out
But I'm gonna get ready to meet the saints.
Now my hound dog lies a-sleepin'
He don't know I'm gonna leave
Else he'd wake up by the fireplace
will have Your bride
Free of all her guilt and rid of all her shame
And known by her true name and it's why I sing
You will be praised You will be
got time to oil the hinges
Nor to mend the windowpane
Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
He's a-gettin' ready to meet the saints
This ole
Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so, And I heard it first on the radio. This love of God so rich and strong, Shall be the saints
spills
Saint Stephen will remain, all he's lost he shall regain
Seashore washed by the suds and foam,
Been here so long, he's got to calling it home
got time to oil the hinges
Nor to mend the windowpane
Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
He's a-gettin' ready to meet the saints
This ole
Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so, And I heard it first on the radio. This love of God so rich and strong, Shall be the saints
Zone 6 (yeah)
Mountain Park, yeah, the red brick and the blue brick
From Sun Valley (huh?) to Leila Valley
Was selling bags by the pound like it's
Am I only a paranoid - or not??
Two ever-bleeding stigmas - pierce my hands
Although I was never crucified
I'm admired by christians like a saint
By Christians Like A Saint
Like A New Messiah... Worship Me!!
The Holy God's - Revelation
It's Turning In - Putrefaction
Infected, Putrid,
make it
How it used to be
Saints been my favorite team but
I can't believe Drew Brees
RIP to Malcolm X, fuck a protest
Grab mo' TECs by any means
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