Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
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Wykonawcy

Teksty: Residents. Hanging By His Hair.

Helpless and hanging around
Inches away from the ground
Where I'm gonna be found
By my father

It's kinda cloudy and gray
Soon they'll be coming my way
Maybe it's better this way
For my father

In front of family and friends
I killed my brother and then
I tried to do it again
To my father

Soon I'm gonna be dead
But I slept on his bed
With his women and said
Fuck you, father

I never thought that I would be
Discovered in a hardwood tree
Hanging by my hair above
A pair of mating turtle doves