Contactez-nous

• Artiste: Pockets Filled With Matches
• Titre: The Assassination Of...
Assurez-vous que les corrections sont tout à fait exactes
S'il vous plaît, les mettez en évidence en quelque sorte!
Vous pouvez, par exemple, écrire
INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
Take this photo from the envelope And look at the mess you made All those secrets that you hid will Now be taken to the grave Take this photo out and don't you dare Get so emotional again You've only got yourself to blame Get up with your head held high And don't give up so easily To resign yourself would be An insult to his misery Take this photo hold it close And remember this sense of shame You've only got yourself to blame My sympathy is used up My patience is worn down You'd better make that mind up If you want me to stick around My sympathy is used up So tell me why I stay? And all this spins faster faster faster faster And numb.. I feel so.. I feel nothing How many times must we go through this? And numb.. I feel so.. I feel nothing How many times must we go through this? Take these letters from your bedside Throw them to the fucking flames All these threads you spun in your web Are nothing to this sense of shame Take these letters that you wrote And don't you dare come here again You've only got yourself to blame Your lies are torn and tattered So just you fucking wait Might just tear you to pieces And I'll take my sweet time about it Your lies are torn and tattered All trodden into the carpet And you'll run faster faster faster faster So what are your regrets now?