Handshake The Gangster Testo
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Testo Handshake The Gangster
are you a wolf,
warm in your pinstripes?
is your pen a bootknife,
drawing red and dollar green?
(two colours for everything)
look how the teeth gnash
look how they smile
it's some kind of witchcraft
that keeps us laughing all the time
we did our jobs
so quick and calm
wasted no love
have i been drinking? my feet are kicking
like someone's pushing this institution down my throat
(and i'm going to choke!)
is this a living, this steady gunning?
it's got a rhythm, sure, a hemiola to my pulse
(a messy rush!)
we did our jobs
so quick and calm
wasted no blood
ambition, give me wings
ambition, break my legs
she swims inside my head
was planted in my skin (and i can't forgive!)
have i been driving? i see the lines bend
but i've not been steering and i keep on veering to the right
(to those blissful lies!)
when did they reach me, while i was sleeping?
when did they rein me? interrogate my better sense
(with their fucking rent!)
and all my teachers, those dusty pilgrims
those plucky speakers are all just victims of a lie
(that they can't deny!)
we did our jobs
so quick and calm
wasted our lungs
warm in your pinstripes?
is your pen a bootknife,
drawing red and dollar green?
(two colours for everything)
look how the teeth gnash
look how they smile
it's some kind of witchcraft
that keeps us laughing all the time
we did our jobs
so quick and calm
wasted no love
have i been drinking? my feet are kicking
like someone's pushing this institution down my throat
(and i'm going to choke!)
is this a living, this steady gunning?
it's got a rhythm, sure, a hemiola to my pulse
(a messy rush!)
we did our jobs
so quick and calm
wasted no blood
ambition, give me wings
ambition, break my legs
she swims inside my head
was planted in my skin (and i can't forgive!)
have i been driving? i see the lines bend
but i've not been steering and i keep on veering to the right
(to those blissful lies!)
when did they reach me, while i was sleeping?
when did they rein me? interrogate my better sense
(with their fucking rent!)
and all my teachers, those dusty pilgrims
those plucky speakers are all just victims of a lie
(that they can't deny!)
we did our jobs
so quick and calm
wasted our lungs
Baker, Timothy John
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind