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• Artiste: Ascetic Parade
• Titre: Iron
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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My words will singe your hair They'll set your skin on fire But I wouldn't waste my spit to Put you out Violence is not confined to acts of physical abuse I know how you love the ones who dish it out to you You need your space then don't knock on my door I'm sitting in an empty room And just because I come home alone Doesn't mean I don't come home to you If I could give you a million roses And if I could strike an equal number of poses Still I could never change your mind A lump of iron moves from my throat Into my heart and it takes over I'm now a man of steel but You're still my Achielle's Heel