: [lyrics: Sundin, Stanne] In orbit they pass around you - the memories from abandoned past Images from within your mind bring unknown feelings into
drifting through my opened mind Possessing and caressing me CHORUS (twice) Nothing?s gonna change my world Nothing?s gonna change my world Images of broken
provoked Inflammatory bonds will be broken Being the shepherd no more Yearning for that ever glowing token In ongoing lore Images appear before my eyes
me - a shining beacon Confused by the sensual innovation Passion ... towards the image of mortal evil Passion ... embraced by the image of united death The enigma lies broken
would kill you To settle the debt I thought never would be paid Found out I was wrong today, too weak to continue One final defense to fall Still I'm broken
, or peruse thy brow In fear of sending off what heaven cast Too early for my insufficient mind To grasp the fullest detail and retain The presence that your image
shittin when I'm rappin like Master P (UNNNGGGGH!) Got a blowjob from Paula Jones, and stuffed it so far in her mouth my balls broke both of her collarbones
t mean when I die, I mean when I go out to the club, stupid I'm tryin' to clear up my fuckin' image, so I promised the fuckin' critics I wouldn't say
was kicked out of his house for making fart sounds with his mouth Arguing with me and mom was on-going She called law enforcement when I broke the law
gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Images of broken light which dance
you and don't call us And all that's sick with gloat and lust And, and don't call me, so I'm serious It's not an image, it's just a way You're going
s raining oil out the sky I think I oughta Make a run but I slipped on an oil-slick I can't move, I think I broke my fucking neck It's no surprise, I'
: [Talking] The new age is upon us And yet the past refuses to rest in its shallow grave For those who hide behind the false image of the son of man
the corn doll You will pray for them all The image of Mother Goddess Lying dormant, in the eyes of the dead The sheath of the corn is broken End the
up with n***a, but n***as got problems, instead of resolve em, rather resolve em regardless, to be honest betrayal is a blessing like the promise is broken
: A broken image is sometimes what I see But the hand that made me is the hand that won't leave me You've begun a good work that only has begun And you
and how come you know better than me that this is not love. No, this is not love. Empty drugstore postcards freeze sunburst images of summers gone