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Artiste:
Counting Crows
Titre:
Wiseblood
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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(by Kurt Stevenson & Chris Boesel) I'm an outcast that no one can save anymore and the days of my youth, have all long gone by now I was the kind of boy the devil would offer a smoke or a drink to or a ride downtown to some God forsaken land One Sunday morning at dawn you know they baptized my soul but they held me down so long Christ I almost drowned Yeah I was the kind of boy who never learned to smile so I kicked and I screamed 'till I tore myself lose from all these great big hands Oh Yeah Chorus: Wiseblood knows how to walk the way the wind blows Wiseblood hears grace whisper right behind My mommma, she turned around and said "Little boy you better wake up....cause your a walking dead" Oh she was the kind a girl who never touched a smoke or a drink she just smoldered like an empty church left to burn in the wind