Kishore Kumar Hits

Sick Of Sarah - Cigarettes текст песни

Исполнитель: Sick Of Sarah

альбом: 2205


Taste this breath,
It vaguely reeks of cigarettes.
And in my place,
A memory you won't forget.
Drink this wine,
My favorite flavor cyanide.
And truth be told,
My heart is warm, my fingers cold.
And the hardest part is waking up,
Followed by pride and confident.
You pinch me now,
'Cause I don't know if I'm real and
I might run home and kill all my friends.
You know I held it from the start.
I thought that we could make it better.
Now help me heal this broken heart.
Help me, heal me.
It's crystal clear,
My reflection through chandeliers.
And this I sense:
I lack much more than innocence.
And the hardest part is waking up,
Swallowed by pride, now cough it up.
You pinch me now
'Cause I don't know if I'm real and
I might run home and kill all my friends.
You know I held it from the start.
I thought that we can make it better.
Now help me heal this broken heart.
Help me, heal me.
Lala-lala-lala-lalala
Taste this breath,
It vaguely reeks of cigarettes.
And in my place,
A memory you won't forget.
And the hardest part is waking up,
Fallen of pride, now cough it up.
You pinch me now
'Cause I don't know if I'm real and
I might run home and kill all my friends.
You know I held it from the start.
I thought that we can make it better.
Now help me heal this broken heart.
Help me, heal me.
Lala-lala-lala-lalala
You know I held it from the start.
Lala-lala-lala-lalala
I thought that we can make it better.
Lala-lala-lala-lalala
Now help me heal this broken heart.
Help me, heal me.

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