pocket burning a hole It's so far from your weapon and the place you were born There's a bullet in my pocket burning a hole You're so far from your weapon
Tulkojums: Dead Weather. Tik tālu no savu ieroci.
burning a hole You're so far from your weapon And the place you were born There's a bullet in my pocket burning a hole You're so far from your weapon
fuck you really think you foolin' You're so far from up to par and your shit needs improvin' From your conversation the way you come across your shit
fuck you really think you foolin You're so far from up to par and your shit needs improvin From your conversation the way you come across your shit is
practiced quite actively My body did not melt beyond the Van Allen Belt I was transformed into a spirit with no shell I'm modifying the weather from behind a weather
