Вершы:
Wounded Kings The

The rising, the swirling.....mist Forming halos around your head Cold black fingers......reaching Caress, caress of the dead Eyes open wide Searching

Cold eyes, gaze on obsidian skies A single tear, the end of the last days Weep an ocean, flood this cursed land Our darkest days have come at last We

what you are Rock dust light star Rock dust light star I'm a square pier in a round hole Maybe there's no place left for my wounded soul Maybe the King of Kings

a shovel in a p-ssy, or devil to them p-ssy Spill the champagne on them p-ssies Yeah, same shit different rest room Stop playing, I turn ya chest into a flesh wound

that's me, swish With the king uncaged As seen on the stage Sharp as a blade Set to blow with no grenade Kaboom you sucker nigga Pussy like a wound

rope You're looking for help from God, you say he couldn't be found Looking up to the sky and searchin' beneath the ground Like a king without his crown, yes, I wanna get down A king

me down as an angry man Got a big chip, you want a fat lip? How 'bout a mouthful of chiclets? Life passed me by, but it's not my fault I'll lick my wounds

News Just give me somethin', somethin' I can use People love it when you lose, they love dirty laundry Well, I could've been an actor but I wound up

is it the mindstate that's ill? Creating crime rates to fill the new prisons they build Over money and religion there's more blood to spill The wounds