Tekster:
Paradise Lost This Cold Life

starts again. In this circumstance that I call my own dreams just don't deliver. I never needed foes forever feeling low cause they breake me down cannot fake this

starts again. In this circumstance that I call my own dreams just don't deliver. I never needed foes forever feeling low cause they breake me down cannot fake this

back to back like ??? In a foreign country we still excavate doves Isolate you to a torture Merchants in my village Remains of no life just cold breezes

the victim's blood The police are investigating at tremendous cost In my house he wrote, "His red right hand" That, I'm told is from Paradise Lost The wind round here gets wicked cold

where I left my soul The pain all started way back when I lost faith in us again, pulled up my roots And replanted them in paradise Where my life has gone to hell Life

like a moth who got himself too close to the light Except I didn't burn, I turned cold after that night [Hook] [Verse 3] I went on with my life

the victim's blood The police are investigating at tremendous cost In my house he wrote * his red right hand * That, I'm told is from paradise lost The wind round here gets wicked cold

off Juss the otha day big block took joc off flavor said Fuck it and took his clock off same day hova lost and he cut tha roc off now this is will be

st ay stay here in paradise only to stay son lonely from this maelstrom free are you from this maelstrom to be with you "we are the lost ones, in the