Grind, grind, grind, grind Grind, grind, grind I can bend in sixty-eight ways I have lived for twelve thousand days Twenty-eight teeth inside of my head
Twenty-eight teeth inside my head Grind three types of things and I'm sad that they're dead Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind
Tradução: Phish. Moler.
days Twenty-eight teeth inside my head Grind three types of things and I'm sad that they're dead Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind
