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• Artiste: Districts (The)
• Titre: Peaches
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I don't wanna hear about the peaches in the Vatican Oh and I don't wanna hear about the bird on the hill And why you wanna fight when you know that I'll be gone again Oh and I don't wanna write god's name into my will I'll just care to make them wanna be in every promise, yeah Oh, and I chose the [?] the neighbors like to party Are you still now wishing I could see your eyes again? I won't be thrown out all these memories apart When in dreams, he knows then Patterns into dreams Listen all, it's like nothing's moving It's estranged From the trapped away Lines in between when the dead are standing out When we crack mother's spatula by walking the street Now I'm sour and aching for the clock four past twelve again And I'm sleeping from even seeing I turn out to be I'm your black and shapes and all day frivolity What I've seen won't even satisfy alone what you hold And we'll win [?] we're in We're deep, we make the shimmer out You're nothing any cold When in dreams, he knows then Patterns into dreams Listen all, it's like nothing's moving It's estranged From the trapped away