yourself washed up in paradise All the fours to all the nines I lost my phone in paradise, pay as you go What a nice day for a murder Say you're a killer
roll a nine find yourself washed up in paradise just like before she never used to mind i love my phone in paradise what a nice day for a murder you
a nine Find yourself washed up in paradise Just like before She never used to mind I lost my phone in paradise And what a nice day for a murder You
翻訳: ベイビーシャンブルズ. 殺人のロストアート.
essentials to absorb this My sword hits the human orb until it orbits In the art of war kids see Grym Reap be morbid Since pieces of the lost civilization
Killed him in his sleep And the blood and crying of your murder Simply stains your sheets You're a ghost on the highway Your gesture is meaningless You're lost
in the land where things would never go right There lived a king who sang a swan song of afternoons and home life Well he was found lost, murdered a
it takes to save the day Neuromancer, perfect blend of technology and magic Use my rapping so you all could see the hazards Plus entertainment where many are brainless We cultivated the lost art
I could vividly recall my mood the day that art was murdered The wind blew a thin layer of dust on my garden bird Everything you knew was sideways and
threatens to ignite Digital murder, the language of machines Mesmerized by a decade of faith, flowers and remorse Fading vision lost in time, tragedy
