I wonder how it would be if my mother was still around The types of talk, the relationships we could have had The three of us, me, you and dad My mouth
[Lyrics by - Keith Caputo] [Music by - Keith Caputo] I wonder how it would be if my mother was still around The type of talk The relationships we could
ترجمة: الحياة من العذاب. كيف يمكن ان تكون.
y'all don't see the castle for the walls And it smiles 'til it falls into piles, so while Everyone thinks that I have it all But it's so empty living
't understand him, it don't mean that he nice It just means you don't understand all the bullshit that he write Is it 'Oochie Wally Wally' or is it 'One Mic'? Is it
? War stalkin the children and the elderly And when you look in their eyes, all you see is peace Because from the agony, they wanna be released You see
stuck between Withdraw - do you remember anything? You're creating agony Haunting until they are dead Hold on cause you have reached this far And further would be
I know how to breathe Turning, turning away from the greed So unpleasant, it strikes whenever I call So relentless as I fall A grand awakening will kill it
to be around? I don't wanna see a smile I don't wanna see a frown So now you know that's how it was and that's how it is By the way stay out of my biz
think it's about time someone taught you a lesson or two" "You tell 'em, Dad," said Farm Boy Who by this time was rolling on the floor in agony Farm Man
What's it all about this crazy love How did our two worlds entwine? How do I fit into your life How did you get into mine? I belong to someone else we
it were true the skies would be full everyday. If I knew how to fly, I'd fly away. If I knew how to fly, I'd fly away. If I knew how to fly, I knew how
your mind what you doin'? Give it up at such a young age, why you ruin your life? All you wanted to be was a wife and blew it And now you stuck with,
geniuses are not the true knights. These know how blessed it is to belong to the common. The true knight also knows how pleasant and wholesome it is to be
. Gandhi called it Ahimsa. The Greenham Wowan call it the 'Politics of Whimsy', But it doesn't end there, neither is it enough. Gandhi played a major
did what I could, but I guess it, wasn't enough The Devil told me it would happen but I kept callin' his bluff When it rains it pours now, my pains are
tremble, and hope, so as not to die! But meanwhile my tremulous soul resonates with agony, resonates with agony, and a dream of love sparks into life
