You hold my head, I cannot hurt You touch my heart, I cannot bleed You close my eyes and I can see Caress my skin my sickness sleeps My dreams are golden
(remix lyrics coming) You hold my head, I cannot hurt You touch my heart, I cannot bleed You close my eyes and I can see Caress my skin my sickness sleeps
You hold my head, I cannot hurt You touch my heart, I cannot bleed You touch my eyes and I can see Caress my skin my sickness sleeps My dreams are golden
Tradução: De cerdo. Blades.
: It takes a backwash man To sing a backwash song Like a frying pan when the fire's gone Driving my pig while the band's taking pictures in the grass
hawk. Conniving opportunist Lease the blade the gun the bomb in the name of justice. A violent panacea for what ails the nation In advancement for the pig
of clueless blues Pays the views and no man's news Blades will fade from blood to sport The heroin's cut these fuses short Smokers rode a colonial pig
really shouldn't pick up people that you don't know Cause one of these days you might pick up a psycho!? Right then and there I put the blade to her
He's got himself a homemade special You know his glass is full of sand And it feels just like a jaybird The way it fits into his hand He rolled a blade
filth, a repulsive pig. Merely given life to be abused and executed. Your execution: you shall be gutted. Mutilated at my hands. Replace pleasure for pain, embrace this blade
: [Intro Skit] Someday I'm gonna be walkin down the streets, mindin my own business.. and BAM!! I'm gon' be shot by some pig who's gonna SWEAR that it
It takes a backwash man to sing a backwash soul Like a fryin' pan when the fire's gone Drivin' my pig while the bands takin' pictures in the grass And
writing a book but even all alone I spend my night with a crook Try to overstand, try to overlook Remember how a pig and a rat had a colder look I'm
in blue Now I had 2 choices, what could I be? Down with, runnin' with the pigs or the g's, Let's see, a pig ain't done nothin' for me But try to guide
, cuz if I die tonight you coming with me Bitch-ass nigga, eat through ya chest like some fucking whiskey [Chorus: Solomon Childs] BOY! Gut him like a pig
for an eye Psychopathic ninjas on a killing spree Creeping in the shadows of eternity Psychopathic ninjas you will never see As the phantom blade becomes