lost In the glare of the sky Wake up, more dead than alive Groggy with a will to survive Get up It's the end of the night
Get lost In the glare of the sky Wake up, more dead than alive Groggy with a will to survive Get up It's the end of the night
I'm finna vom? Ya move like ya mean it she'll cum Prom night might excite a down right fight like White blood cells to the common cold rebel Night gets
soul will show to grow Grow in my garden Sow up the hardened soil of forgotten love I want to know if a soul will show to grow Grow in my garden
head nobody would take for song or pity sake The night before Christmas I cried with the cold I cried myself to sleep like a two year old And in the deep night
, at the crossroad We're bein' sucked up into the black hole Young becomes old, mighty clouds roll Unfold the scrolls that were foretold, by the forefathers The end
from the south-side givin it up and Them homies from the east-side slangin that stuff and I'm right up in the middle tryin to hang on and Tryin not to end up
horror lurking for a soul Lurking for a soul With this night the end begins, dark deletes the sun Broken crypts now tell the tale that death is growing
Wait for the end Hoping that they'll hear the sound When I fail just like them Desperation eyes Show me more than I should know I make it up all as
down to there being no excuse for laziness. there's no use for craziness. you should be practicin right now. it's strange how one kid will grow up
fades away My pencil's frozen in my hand And the letter I can't write It seems to be a desert without end I woke up late at night She called me up
mute acceptance? Take up your eyes and see. Take up your ears and hear. Take up your mind and think. Take up your life and act. * It is up to us all
sail Is the darkned pond in the scented dusk Where a kid grow's full of sadness Let us all go drifting out into the evening sun At nights we passed the
their courage dies The hope to see down grows dim From behind each rise spring a pair of eyes And the whole of the night looks grim Cult of the river
The east unveils its summer time West coast lives got butterflies So literal, cold unbearable, life's so terrible Kids live fearlessly and curious Lives grow up
Walking across the sitting-room, I turn the television off Sitting beside you, I look into your eyes As the sound of motor cars fades in the night time
a blade To and through the heart No conscience One Motive Cater to the hollow Screaming feed me here Fill me up again Temporarily pacify this hungering So grow
begins: Here, under this omniscient still, Something intensely grows- No sound just thrill Night- bird of prey who gazed below In menacing shape, savagely Up
