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Squirtgun

Frederick`s Frost

  pop punk  punk  punk rock  ramones-core  pop-punk
243,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Squirtgun - Frederick`s Frost

Squirtgun - Frederick`s Frost слова песни




He`s sitting frozen with mud on his feet in IndianaAnd his blue skin plays a January songHis mind a-wanders to the sunshine he`s been missing in the white room.She stared at his brisket eyes so longA lonely snowman, he figures and he calculates her bodyAnd life`s brevity assures him that it won`t last long.He`s got daysDays and saysIceman fight in my headFrederick`s FrostHe thinks about her lovely nametag as he shivers by the birdbathBromide poison concentrated dullHe`s got lots of pictures of her he could show you,but he has concroid pitches in his skullTurned loose from the cage.He`s a lion with an illnessAnd every rose he touches folds and turns to glass.

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