cry no more Just take your clothes and Get out the door Cos there you stand As cold as ice I'm sick and tired Of all your lies So stop messin' round
like tempered glass, and cut my wrist while falling, for boredom sake I'll call in sick, and I'll just keep on writing, these letters to homesick angels
mess, it'a a mess, but there are no lyrics. Don't you know it's just some noise!
Written by stewart copeland When you reach number ten And think the struggle ends But it ain't the end It's only a trend You have to unbend 'cause it
gatto che si mangio il topo che al mercato mio padre compro. Alla Fiera dell'Est per due soldi un topolino mio padre compro. E l'Angelo della Morte sul
Traduzione: Angelo Branduardi. Alla Fiera Dell'est.
Traduzione: Dark Angel. Il terrore per le masse.
Traduzione: Pungiglione. Un sermone.
Traduzione: TV-2. Fiera Inquieta - Angela Maria Forero.
ve been telling lies who's been telling lies? there are no angels there are devils in many ways take it like a man the world's a mess, it's in my kiss