Tekster:
Fisto Other

was where the heart was... / Not where the hurt came from / And as I turn my back to you, I remember / You came home with an opened mouth and a closed fist

I'm left to pick up The hints, the little symbols of your devotion So I'm left to pick up The hints, the little symbols of your devotion I feel your fists

: Mais toi que veux tu de moi quand tu me regarde comme ca Quand tu fermes un peu les yeux comme un vieux chien malheureux je sais ce que tu veux, tu

is no use for the dearly departed Just make a fist and the party has started Show appreciation for the dead They never complain about giving head Fista

The time has come. Just like the old days you shut me out. I feel forever unknown. Something so miniscule, has become even smaller. But it's just

I borrowed, I borrowed, I begged for, forgiveness I borrowed, I begged for, forgiveness I borrowed, I begged for, forgive... The taste of blood in my

Part I: Ich schnur? die Dunks fest. Mein iPod voll mit Punktracks. Die Stadt stresst, es langt jetzt. Ich steh krumm, dass die Wand [???] Sehe [???],

Would you step inside the white light the smell of your house is fading now and I'm still holding on well this ride has been so long and this room couldn

A fistful of roses ain?t the best thing I could do I called by the clothesline, and the fish pond Called out for you You want an urgent, bent-guitar