Erroneous Manipulation Songtext
[Music:Fredrik Thordendal, Johan Sjægren; Lyric:Jens Kidman, Fredrik Thordendal]
An inwrought irksome rabbit
is washing my stomach
I can't stop thinking about my tonsils
how they are pendulating between my toes
slowly suffering from liberty
I'm naked on a TV-set and it's running wild,
fast, sweet and heavy penetrating in to my
grandparents pupils out of reach but with a
An inwrought irksome rabbit
is washing my stomach
I can't stop thinking about my tonsils
how they are pendulating between my toes
slowly suffering from liberty
I'm naked on a TV-set and it's running wild,
fast, sweet and heavy penetrating in to my
grandparents pupils out of reach but with a
canoes evil emotion
Allright I can admit it now
I was a screaming and lying stoneoperation
who searched his way through carparts
afraid to be recognized by a spoon
Birds with empty refridgerators heated up the
childrens chairsweat
There was no chance to drive the table without
a blue sock cause my mistakes rolled down above
the forest of investigation
As soon as I heard my neighbor bend his arm
with a submarine the milk was hot and dangerous
like a bed
Nobody understands how wipewashers can breathe cows
Farting magazines are wading in waxed scarecrows
Falling flesh punched me in my bathsuit look alike neck which controls universe with an irongrip of umbrellas
I'm wiping away some mirrors from the snakes
without drinking any busstations
Sorry, I'm in love with a door
Allright I can admit it now
I was a screaming and lying stoneoperation
who searched his way through carparts
afraid to be recognized by a spoon
Birds with empty refridgerators heated up the
childrens chairsweat
There was no chance to drive the table without
a blue sock cause my mistakes rolled down above
the forest of investigation
As soon as I heard my neighbor bend his arm
with a submarine the milk was hot and dangerous
like a bed
Nobody understands how wipewashers can breathe cows
Farting magazines are wading in waxed scarecrows
Falling flesh punched me in my bathsuit look alike neck which controls universe with an irongrip of umbrellas
I'm wiping away some mirrors from the snakes
without drinking any busstations
Sorry, I'm in love with a door
THORDENDAL, FREDRIK / KIDMAN, JENS
© Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
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© Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Songtext powered by LyricFind