I heard they cut off your writing hand
That’s what they do
To people like you
No one can see me in my backyard
I sit and smoke
And no one knows
And I’m afraid that there’ll be no change
That things will stay
Exactly the same
I heard they cut off your writing hand
That’s what they do
To people like you
And I’m afraid that there’ll be no change
That things will stay
Exactly the same
Comentarios
Deja tu comentario: