Тексты песен «Shrug»

there's a spaceman standing on my stoop he's calling up to me he wants to take me home and here i thought i was all along but i'm wrong there's a feeling swimming over me that i'm incomplete and i'm not asleep and here...

bottom feeder bottom feeder perfect the frosting permit me to lick the beater bottom feeder bottom feeder our recipe's the same but your ingredients are sweeter your biggest fan at your right hand your master...

lost sheep on fifth street peculiar and pained i look her up when i can twelve o'clock witching hou mercedes-benz bobbing for pumpkins again and i offer nothing but the shirt off my back and the heart on my sleeve and...

leave me here in pewter-colored strange i've seen the error of my ways but it's too late to change mercy mercy all is mercy now i'm well aware of why to die but still hung up on how don't get gothic on me babe it's been...

there's a body in the tub in apartment ten there's a feeling that you'll never see your sanity again there's a nervous knock from the nervous hand outside cloud eight with a bullet ride the rocket on a downward slide...

drop another coin in the melodrama jukebox i came here to be alone but if you feel the need to bleed then i'll condemn or i'll condone but i'm not your pocket shrink not going to buy your drink and you will never know...

practiced in the ways of shame you found me my arms held open to the sun taking in the sights and sounds around me but losing precious pieces one by one i've paid my dues i've paid my don'ts as well i want some wills...

pull the car onto the shoulder now you're making a mess just a little bit of irony your life is running out your eyeballs in a pretty blue parade things were fine until the angel poked out of your chest and read your...

burned out at 27 punched a ticket for rock'n'roll heaven the first time in my life i went shopping for a different one growing old sophisticated into the thing that you and i hated junkie chic may be a dead end street...

"eureka," cried the holy ones "we'll fry the bastard sinners' sons so clap your hands and throw your guns the end's in sight-we've almost won" and tonight we'll sleep in paradise tonight we'll sleep in paradise tonight...

words i've never said are knocking on my bedroom door pick the lock sing glory glory hallelujah songs i've never sung are underneath my kitchen floor stick around and let the shards go slicing through you you never...

you're a slow-acting potion you draw me in like a tide you cloud my mind like a fever you strip away my pride your voice calls to me from corners where you hide my world is burning badly borne on your breeze my head is...

it dangles from his lips the scorn hangs like a cigarette he hasn't even met me yet shock the monkey make it funky doesn't mean a thing the wax museum breathes it slithers out of taxicabs a generation up for grabs sell...

Wake up sugarplum, it's time to be a genius. Time to beat your brains into a, perfect circle. Wake up sugarplum up off the matress Wash your face and face the faceless, Muddle masses. Wake up sugarplum, put on some...