bord de mon piano, mon homme. J?embarque pour le bout du monde, Tant mon ivresse vagabonde, Je fais l?amour, je bois du rhum, A bord de mon piano, mon
tomorrow i will be home i trust you to believe in me this time the piano is playing an in-between song the piano is playing our song i know you need me
Swallow, lose weight, and shake the demons out I kept the little rules and broke the big ones An ugly voice singing of the commons with such an intense
Oversættelse: Joshua Bell. Elegie (Elegie 'O Doux Printemps D'fortiden "for sang og klaver).
Oversættelse: Joshua Bell. Sange Min mor lærte mig, sang for sang og klaver B104 / 4 Op 55 / 4.
Oversættelse: Joshua Bell. Serenade (Fra 'schwanengesang' sangcyklus for sang og klaver, D 957.
Oversættelse: Evanescence. My Immortal (Klaver Vocal Version).
: Una notte sul canale di Lubecca in una vecchia fabbrica di polvere da sparo li giacciono nella polvere accatastati i vecchi pianoforti dalla guerra
digital Avalanche. When cecilia's grave cracked like a dirt cacoon, she pulled up a stool at the silhouette saloon. The player piano mumbling crippled
(Fake fake flowers, fake funeral) This room is a fluorescent tomb: it's brazen bulbs mimic death's hyena croon. He pulls on her wires, she jerks to
Bulimic rainbows vomit what? Burn Piano Island Burn! Coconut pupils never shut? Burn Piano Island Burn! Jigsaw babies and their bamboo stilts? Burn Piano
[Verse 1:] Ring out the gong again! Carve out this hymn in skin! When the party blacks out again you're still eating headlines out of the newspaper bin
Why can't we let our mouths devour each other? Why can't we turn those miles into inches, letters into breath, years into seconds? (We always said we
[Bullhorn:] "Save the falsetto valentines for the black ice cube toast, for the filth roast." [Classified:] You know she looks so clinique, but when
Do you remember us? Do you remember us? We wrapped your corvette in cellophane, set it aflame! Do you remember us? Do you remember us? We doused your
caress and I must confess you look slightly marionette-esque. The way you walk out of order. The way you talk out of tune. Marooned on Piano Island. Population
When the french maids cigarette turns burns like a boiling tapeworm (that was really something baby, that was really something baby) When the chandeleers
Yeah, through the screen door your thoughts are quarantined, Yeah, by the way you smell I can tell that you're fifteen. Yeah, my name is Denver Max,
