laying on the floor
|
i've been here once before
|
and i'm not proud of it
|
misery comes today
|
it's coming back my way
|
and i want it to leave me
|
|
doubtful you are the people
|
where your anger run your sleep
|
fate of those whos feet are slipping
|
or to those whos eyes
|
or to those whos eyes have seen
|
|
to him the strength belongs
|
the weak attempt his arms
|
and show me my offence
|
so look away from me
|
becuase i can hardly see
|
im hiding nothing
|
|
doubtful you are the people
|
where your anger run your sleep
|
fate of those whos feet are slipping
|
or to those whos eyes
|
or to those whos eyes have seen
|
|
doubtful you are the people
|
when your anger run your sleep
|
fate of those whos feet are slipping
|
or to those whos eyes
|
or to those whos eyes have seen
|
|
-----------------
|
Pulp Fiction
|
Fanmail |