Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Geluid


Koppel


Moeilijkheidsgraad


Accent



interfacetaal

nl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie beleid   |   Steun   |   FAQ
1
registreren / inloggen
Lyrkit

doneren

5$

Lyrkit

doneren

10$

Lyrkit

doneren

20$

Lyrkit

En/of steun mij op sociaal gebied. netwerken:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Raised Fist

Chaos

 

Chaos

(album: From The North - 2015)


Six-figure salary and still not fed up with insanity.
Sound like you are mentally ill and I still wonder why you keep chasing the dollar bill.
So fix your lips your hips, acting like 20 and you can't come to grips with the plague ordinary people call age.
You are working overtime, as a banker.
Organized crime, leather shoes, expensive watch, big mansion, still you cry at night.

How sweet, your kids in the backseat while you smoke and work on the next tweet.
Everyone in the gang so happy, then it ends with a bang.
A piece of processed food in the corner of your mouth,
When you pushed her south and because the man that you did not plan.

It was like you could not command your own body. You could not withstand.
Done, when done, cash in the hand, zip your pants up, back to a happy marriage and family land.

Let it be said, you should be dead.
Let it be said, they should be dead.

When I feel down and low, in the city of cold where the snow falls, and no flowers seem to grow.
We try to go out on tour, we try to ignore the insecure media whores burning out of control.

klaar

Heb je alle onbekende woorden uit dit nummer toegevoegd?