So let's face it big time you are small on him
|
You don't know that's what he was thinking
|
So you're watching some third season show, so what?
|
Anyway, what will happen tomorrow is not interesting now
|
When you want a little change, then the dog is compensation
|
How did you give him a bank card? It's like a check without cover
|
You are a sweet cake and he is a little underbaked
|
A lioness in an institution of torture
|
And the sunsets in front of you in the sea say return to it
|
Tears of salt flood your heart now
|
And how in your wounded soul you are still building some kind of palace
|
Only yours and his
|
And you're afraid of your shadow when he's not here
|
And he is celebrating his new life
|
And how the wounded soul just wants some security
|
Already waiting for him to come
|
Shekel manipulations just in time
|
And new beginnings are an old dream
|
He will not be the father of your children
|
Even so, he won't even think of coming to see them
|
What about him, what do you like, what do you like about him?
|
You can't get enough of his fake tone
|
Talked like trash facial expressions of a statue
|
Mami it's bad for you that's all the fun of it
|
And the sunsets in front of you in the sea say return to it
|
Tears of salt flood your heart now
|
And how in your wounded soul you are still building some kind of palace
|
Only yours and his
|
And you're afraid of your shadow when he's not here
|
And he is celebrating his new life
|
And how the wounded soul just wants some reassurance
|
Already waiting for him to come
|
When will you realize that there is no chance with him, he is dancing in the street in the rain again
|
You're all blues but the heart is in a trance, it's dying to fight just for the action
|
And the ciprolax is not magic, and the words cut to the bone
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If it doesn't fit in my head anymore, tell me how it will fit in my stomach
|
Take advantage of the fact that you are transparent, television is no longer a medicine
|
Your makeup is smeared on your face, you're crying and that's how beautiful you are
|
He wants the Game Over, you want the Hangover
|
You have no night, no morning, on the sofa you lie like a goo....
|
And the sunsets in front of you in the sea say return to it
|
Tears of salt flood your heart...
|
And how in your wounded soul you are still building some kind of palace
|
Only yours and his
|
And you're afraid of your shadow when he's not here
|
And he is celebrating his new life
|
And how the wounded soul just wants some reassurance
|
Already waiting for him to come |