Lyrics

We had no trouble With the face of any plot When I'd been out stealing. In a closet I was caught. I said never, But was the first to direct you. Cause your own suicide Was legal as fractures. I'm on a train Without a traction. I'm lost on a road That owns a fraction. I'm raising my stake. While my time, I'm spending on rubber dolls And outlaws. But I tracked you, To collect you, Protect you From mercy from morals. And I never would neglect you For my angers, My laughs that ain't rolling. But your own genocide Was mentally directed by Forces. Sweet forces that deranged you, Or be cocked Or outknocked by amazing Stain drops. But it's been so wrong, It's been so long. Yes I've been a fool To be tempted to treat you For beating the record. The simonized Packard, The girl on the roam That ain't never getting picked up, Smashed up, Stuck inside a resto rumble. I got a phone, But I never get a dial tone. Angels Could have crooked you, Could have booked you, To go tripping in Timbuktu. But would you, Would you prefer to Refer to your nephew. White outlined curfew. Angels Could have crooked you, Could have booked you, To go tripping in Timbuktu. But would you, Would you prefer to Refer to your nephew. White outlined curfew. Forces, No forces could retain you, Or be blocked, Or be knocked in outrageous Pit stops. But I've been so wrong. Yes I've been so long. Yes I've been so wrong To be there to protect you. I'm not the wrecker, The window, Or the mekka. The man on the roam That ain't never getting backed up, Smashed up. Steering like a renegade rambler. I got a phone, But I never get a dial tone. But instead I'm caling to be wrapped up And mapped up. I'm a stone, A breeze, A number one. Yeah I'm a song, An open door. While all my patients are rude, While I'm inspecting the rodeo And not adore you or bore you. But I'm about to warn you. I got a lesson for you, Love is the rapture, An honesty failure. Love is a record that I wont play for you. Angels Could have crooked you, Could have booked you, To go tripping in Timbuktu. But would you, Would you prefer to Refer to your nephew. White outlined curfew. Angels Could have crooked you, Could have booked you, To go tripping in Timbuktu. But would you, Would you prefer to Refer to your nephew. White outlined curfew. Angels Could have crooked you, Could have booked you, To go tripping in Timbuktu. But would you, Would you prefer to Refer to your nephew. White outlined curfew. Angels Could have crooked you, Could have booked you, To go tripping in Timbuktu. But would you, Would you prefer to Refer to your nephew. White outlined curfew.
Writer(s): Daan Stuyven Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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