Lyrics:
I think about them
Can't hear it coming down the hallway stairs from the parking lot
It's too loud
Three's not a crowd all up in it
Slow fire
There are no lyrics to this track. It is intentionally blank, with each of the 71 seconds representing one of the years that the artist's father,
Your next favourite artist (Artist , Artist , Artist)
You're my favourite artist (Artist)
never even had to reach in the fire to dig deep
Nobody ever handed me shit in life, not even a flyer
Wouldn't even take shit into consideration
Tune me in to the wild side of life
I'm an innocent young child sharp as a knife
Take me to the garretts where the artists have died
Show me
Tune me in to the wild side of life
I'm an innocent young child sharp as a knife
Take me to the garretts where the artists have died
Show me
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
Oh oh
Lawrence in the desert, how was he to know
Under so much pressure from the men back home?
Play with fire, you must be mad
Are you only
Good artists copy great artists steal
introduced the oceans to the earth
Well whoever made the snowflakes
Made shadows where doubts lurk
I suspect an artist is at work
I know when an artist
and lied and lied and lied
But they couldn't stop Jack, or the waters lapping
And they couldn't prevent Jack from feeling happy
But they couldn't stop
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