Teksty:
Owen Pallett

All that she wants is a man with a tan A mashing pot and matching pan A minivan As high an income as she can Who are you to judge?

I got a message for the acolytes, I am your man for wife he find I got a thirst for liquid gold, I'll bludgeon 'til the body's cold The stony hiss of

Boys run like water from the barrow to the trough They'll never stop their running Gunning for their brothers This house is a hostel It is peaceful but

The art of loss of mind We will climb the side of Alpentine The art of want of mind Even more, some satisfactions My mind is not caught In the nature

I stumbled on the summit's path. Clumsy, clumsy No paragon am I I can't even keep my shoes tied I've been in love with Owen ever since I heard the strains

Benito was fifteen when he went off to college I stayed home and tried to go with his best friend He told me he was going to cut my neck right across

As soon as I got on the horse I forgot about the map Forgot about the odds against an adolescent standing up to all of Owen's wrath The heat of prairie