Paroles de Lucienne
Dead angels are our friendsMay the demons smile again
And may our virtue be superior
Judge and jury, who's to blame
And in the end it's all the same
Rusty ruins with gold exterior
Like quivers hung from clods of grey
You're getting yourself in our way
I turn the other cheek another day
Like quivers hung from clods of grey
You're getting yourself in our way
I turn the other cheek another day
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