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Artiste:
Weakend (The)
Titre:
Even Angels Can Fuck Like The Devil
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The snow was falling gently, but she radiated summer, And the winter melted at her feet Her eyes were emerald green, which impeccably matched her frozen cheeks With her locking lips and with her frosted winter hair Who could possibly imagine That the devil would dress herself in Angel's skin Just to leave an impression? And the agency agrees: there's nothing quite like ditching your routine - An updated piece will increase the attendance And the colors complemented me I painted every line so perfectly Even Picasso would bend down on one knee. She must have read the great reviews Her hands move faster than mine do. My shirt was struggling to survive before the sheets could settle Before the sun could break the skyline, pushing light back into view Who could possibly imagine That the devil would dress himself in Angel's skin Just to leave an impression? This is nothing more than a reaction to lying face down. And I'm no longer a service to the ravens anyway.