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| Arşivimizdeki şarkı sözü sayısı 158.000'i geçti! |
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Saafir - Bent Şarkı Sözleri
before you enter you have to bring back the creator of winter damn, too late i´m spoiled, i need the napalm i got it, i shot it in my left sector, blew up the timing device on the reactor. time shifted i had to remold the floor the foundation for creation - mate´s blend the pleasure dome into another roam - a walk stalked nightly by the ogre that´s rarely sober. but there´s no tracin i see the place in the flow. i´m beyond dawn, no i´m not in the lawn under pawns - don´t rest, never possessed stagnate magnets. i never pulled slits lips wit no braille skilled eyes - balls through eyesockets. i´m currently current currents of electricity; they can´t get wit me invisible to the retina half - way reality part limbo. a nervous laugh while ya climbin through windows, never spin ho´s on merry-go-rounds, be the ground level for ghouls, schools of fish, victims on a hit list me like geronimo on a pratt - tackle patt tacklin patterns addin in seasonings, flavor. no false teeth for beef, catapulting fingers to light switches so you can see the real, i feel the tension my sight twitches - i´m bent. second scene: i´m the star in a step show around corners, the coroner´s office; where my rep grows. i´m on some sort of drug like the president, it´s evident that i´m noid, a little bit of pizza - the riddle gets deeper. i´m lookin for outs n ins, stolen isotonas, the gloves, the bout begins three jabs on a transport it´s a sport for me to take another life on landing, branding wit a prattle prod designed by god. it´s my job to resign frauds, the odd is against you got a degree in me, so i know that i flow, credentials are essential - it´s blasphemy the type of shit they be askin me. i don´t feel the vibe, abstract art the veal doesn´t heal this deprived stomach from a plummet. swinging on a duet with the bullet. i never pull out for suspense - i´m on a bent mission. jack cousteau couldn´t take it no deeper - i´m a resident in davey jones micro-locker holds the phone, foamin at the mouth: mad dog, a taste, never had hog i´m droppin the scrooge, makin fools hit the log - axe it. i seen it beneath where the cowards hope trembled sleeper see if you can find the lost treasure through measures in bars - i´m bent. |
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