Sound of the Weapon - Verbal Kent

Sound of the Weapon - Verbal Kent

Альбом
Sound of the Weapon
Год
2014
Язык
`Engelska`
Длительность
169500

Nedan finns texten till låten Sound of the Weapon , artist - Verbal Kent med översättning

Låttexten " Sound of the Weapon "

Originaltext med översättning

Sound of the Weapon

Verbal Kent

Reporting live from the service, too many funerals

Thousand moms and dads, five hundred murders

Five hundred murderers, burglars

promise

Turn a boy cold in the night, seeking silence

In the sun times, reports to going violence

More pigs in the trough means nothing when the follow

Rhyme follow daily, crime climb daily

Twenty-six and cal corpmans pack full of babies

The judges kick the baby mommas out, shut the crying up

Wonder if the baby know the verdict

Baby got inserted in this world full of hatred

And it’s fate is depending on how great a student’s aim is

The love’s going love songs

Walk the streets waitin' to be next, my bud strong

Listenin' to sirens, common is a

Charcoal grey skies of just another earthworm

Living on the earth, turning with it, equipped with no equipment

Living in a gifted of missed misfits

And listen, you can hear the sound of the weapon

Rounds, sending a soul into heaven

Rounds, sending a soul into heaven

Rounds, sending a soul into heaven

Listen, you can hear the sound of the weapon

Mom weeping, against the kitchen window

Big toed about the grim reaper creepin'

Can you keep a secret?

Do you sleep with the meat clever in your sleeping bag just in case the sneaky

back?

Well I have, life’s not a lilac

Life’s more like a steak, froze’d as a ice pack

Life’s more like weight, lifin' to move stress

Like the massage, without being touched by flesh

By George, think you got it, fragile as the days are

way to work, man, murdered on a train car

Fatherless to kids, now the kids wanna play guard

Later, vicious cycle, roll the dice, psycho killers at large

Sittin' in my car, feelin' these bars

Tears flowin' down my damn face, need of a

Help to wonder if my time will come soon

If I’ll die young too

Reflection off the high hung moon

Living on the earth, turning with it, equipped with no equipment

Living in a gifted of missed misfits

And listen, you can hear the sound of the weapon

Rounds, sending a soul into heaven

Rounds, sending a soul into heaven

Rounds, sending a soul into heaven

Rounds, sending a soul into heaven

Listen, you can hear the sound of the weapon

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