Cut him up, boy You've got to cut him up, boy. He's a wicked disgrace, And he said it to your face You better cut him up boy. Take by the teeth, Get
I regret leaving my soul I forgot I needed it, to feel maybe when I die I'll just grab it real quick I'm coming right back I regret leaving my mind I
And if I ever drive you mild, and suffering this open kiss And I'm barely juvenile When everyone is outrageous And I alone will be sleeping through
Tonight you gotta look in my eyes You got it, you drive me out of my mind Drive, driven Gave, given It's dangerous to stay And I say Drive, driven Gave
Rollin' down the Interstate Headin' out to Illinois Runnin' 'bout 95 Listen to my engine, boy Sand burnin' beano Westcoast, turn around I don't make
Your mother she protected you And softened every blow And brought you up to fear the worst To be careful as you go. And the learned educators With
You take my money You think you're great You think it's funny I hate your face Yeah You got your Jesus And I got my space You got your reasons
Fordítás: Carolina, Ana. A kamera, hogy a hajtások Napok.
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Fordítás: Hajtás. Ode To Quentin.