You're walking taller than you should The air is thin around your beautiful head You're saying things with your mouth to me That I don't recognize You
Traduzione: The National. Bella testa.
: You're walking taller than you should The air is thin around your beautiful head You're saying things with your mouth to me That I don't recognize
to drop a line? To trickle from the back of yo' head To the bottom of yo' spine? Ho! Yeah baby Dogghouse, uh [Bad Azz] You was beautiful, suitable, do
I kept two so I could have spare (So historic!) Cause you never know, make no mistakes about it I let it goooooooo! (This beautiful moment in music!)
you live with and I'll tell you what drugs you do Sleeping beauty wasn't sleeping, she was in a coma And when you got shot your head doesn't spin And
, pmx and hitting switches, not quite afraid of death as I am, see he was raised with religion Look at the dead head mechanism, amongst the cobble stones
roots And vibrant flooring, he's home Seems to penetrate very fabric of the roof above me As panels seal (ceiling) seal (ceiling) peels Back the sky so beautiful
Oh what a clever boy To watch your hometown be destroyed I knew that I would not stay long So I kept my head down and carried on Who cares where national
start to clout - there's no guns in this gentleman's boout. Georgie moves in on the outside left with a chain flying round his head; and Harold Demure
my homeboy he grew a beard his hairs all matted Up tatted up he act like 30 is 25 added up Went from having money and girls with beautiful skin Now he
Dedication For My Nation, A Celebration Its A Party U Dont Need An Invitation But Back To Whats In Front Of My Facing Good God What A Beautiful Creation
In this faltering nation The future belongs To the children in school There's something wrong Sixth grader on crack Handgun overflowing in his hands
fix us up then. Bloody marvellous. We don't get through on some level, as you notice. Was under marijuana. Beautiful, beautiful. Keep smoking. Nothing illegal beautiful, beautiful
In this faltering nation the future belongs to the children in school There's something wrong Sixth grader on crack Handgun overflowing in his hands
in approval and bury our head back in the bar-codes of these neo-colonials while our former nemesis (ah, the romance!): the nation-state, now plays fund
