throat red This day, dark day innocence lost its way This field this hell, is where an angel fell This day, dark day innocence lost its way This field
Out in the field when the first has been born folks sing a song,song of the corn late in the day when the secrets are sworn folks tell a tale,tale
Field Life IS So F***king Real Dis Is For My Fallen Soldiers We Miss You Although You Gone We With You Gone Pon Di Battle Field Life IS So F***king Real
Waitin' at a stop light yesterday As a funeral procession made its way Through a field of green With white headstones All in a row And it made me think
no cheddar See these niggas with no cheese they hungry for real They hunting to kill and will give you somthing to fill up in the field 7 mile and Ryan
Waitin' at a stoplight yesterday As a funeral precession made its way Through the gates I watched it roll up a windin' road Through the field of green
m typin' 700 words per second Too much for this record to wreckage Perfection, pestilence spreadin' The usual settin' to a musical dead end Your funeral
ll give a Cyclops double vision) But as soon as he's placed in his tome I rewind from his doom to his eulogy inside of the funeral room To the moment
'll give a Cyclops double vision) But as soon as he's placed in his tome I rewind from his doom to his eulogy inside of the funeral room To the moment
Hector's blod is spilled His bones will all be broken Dragged across the field This bear friend is how we'll say goodbye Until we meet in the sky [III FUNERAL
encore The number of wars fought between countries That both have at least one McDonalds is zero Every 5 minutes an area of rainforest the size of a foot ball field
On either side of the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the world and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road run by To many
half empty, half full, I?ll spill ya Try me and run into a wall, outfielder You know I?ma ball ?til they turn off the field lights The fruits of my labor
half full, I'll spill ya Try me and run into a wall, outfielder You know I'm a ball 'til they turn off the field lights The fruits of my labor, I enjoy
say is: [Verse 1:] They say real recognize real The dollar bill will exercise our ills...E Frauds is thoroughly camouflaged and fatigued in the field
crooked, cracked fang You always hoped one day you'd be mine Threw our fathers on funeral pyres I'm not sure that we were playing a game Busted gasket in a field