#
Название
Альбом
Текст песни
They're running their mouths about original sin again.
Somehow we're similar simians, on a steady diet of carcinogens.
We'll be the weathermen, warning of the black skies ahead.
Broadcasting live from the City of the Dead. The forecast is for hail,
Locusts and falling anvils bring common sense and science to a standstill.
Чтобы увидеть полный текст,
Волна по треку
Похожие по звучанию треки из нашей коллекции