Из альбома: Fragrant World
My mind is a colour to get out my mouth
My tongue is a pill that I can't spit out
Make no bones, about it
We're older now, than I like to admit
My midnight image casts no shadow
An overturned city as our grass will grow
Make no bones, about it
We're older now, than I like to admit
Suppose it's the right time
Suppose it's the right time
Suppose it's the right time
Suppose it's the right time
Suppose it's the right time
Suppose it's the right time
Suppose it's the right time
Suppose it's the right time
Each steps on a snake fills my lungs [?]
Allison, my slip of the tongue
No thoughts no turning back I
She knows me better than I
No blots no semen it's energy wasted
Make no bones, about it
We're older now, than I like to admit
Suppose it's the right time
Suppose it's the right time
Suppose it's the right time
Suppose it's the right time...