Sweet 75

Flowers made of bread
I never thought
You'd be the one
To choke me in my bed
Now there's cotton
Up your nose
How are you supposed
To breathe on your own
I never wanted
To take the last ride
I never wanted
To see your last smile
And now you
Say nothing you say nothing
Say nothing hear everything
Little dog could climb
A tree
And get away from all
This insanity
It could climb
Up on the roof
And get a bird's eye view
Of everything
Watch the child across
The street
She doesn't really have a
Name, they call her girl
While standing in my soup
I never really understood
Why my feet stayed wet
When I was nine years old
All the pictures
On the walls
Were your match boxes
The last ride was short
And your last smile
Was sick and crooked
Editar playlist
Apagar playlist
tem certeza que deseja deletar esta playlist? sim não


O melhor de 3 artistas combinados