просмотреть mp3 бесплатно — Trophy Scars — на fan-musicclub.ru

And I hope my insides pull apart I’ve got some sorting I need to do, yeah My friends all tell me to say yes And I guess I’ll try my very best, yeah This city won’t suck my broken veins Even though my blood is bloody clean My teeth are stuck inside my tongue To keep my mouth from owning up So much for my brilliant honesty So no more complaining And no more explaining No more magic tricks and taps You get what I’m saying I’m through with blaming all those biter trips and tracks I want my toast with butter and jam And I want to eat green eggs and ham And I want to set this country straight And I want to say up real real late I’ll let the street lamps light the way To my indignant open grave And I’ll clap my hands and take a guess My tombstone is marked with the word yes