interesting. The atmosphere is like a party. There are people everywhere. Families are sitting around the. graves of their dead ancestors. They clean the graves and add fresh flowers. I walk through the
Walking a fine line between wrong and right. And I know there is a part of me that I try to hide. But I can't win and I can't fight, I keep holding on too tight. Running away from the world
Hello, woo, hey Here's a little story 'bout a boy named Joey. King of the world, got a very long story. Made a lot of money, live a life of glory. Did what he done but he end up sorry Beat a lot
I wanted to leave. But I can't 'cause I'd miss all your bitchin' at me And it started out so cool. Can't stand what it turned in to. Like a drug I can't kick. It's so hard to admit it to you
in her eyes. So damn hard to speak. (Can't say a word out loud) There's no words to make this right. She tells me that I'm lost. I know that she will never understand. I know that I will do it all
Into a dream, I took a turn, and promised to return. The way we were, the way we met, the way I lit your cigarette. The way it trailed, into a stream, and lay down between. . You had to choose, a
to your head. A slave to your souls,a slave to your graves. . You won't go to Heaven. You won't go to Hell. You'll remain in your graves. With the stench and the smell. . Oh Dambala come