Print

tormen, he was a snake-oil salesmantook a lesion, a stake andthree fucking greasy henchmanand if on one friendless nighthe were to call you a brethreni would run my brothergun my brother till your sweat it is relentlesshe was well versedin witnesses and vintage carbineshe drove a long black hearse with a harlotand a chaffeurand he'd show me a good timeon a sunday nightbut i'd have to clean up the messand i had to learn how to fightwell, i saw a lot that nighti saw a lot that nightand i fought for my lifewith a glass-fashioned knifewhen he speaks of bloodit's your vital not your kinoh much is slit over misintentionlet me speak to you of my intentionI'm a chat interventionLetras de cancioneslet me speak to you of attentioni take my attentionhammer it to a nickelin the glass housethe gutterthe gutterthe gutterthe guttertormen tormen i said tormen he was a cannibaltormen and his brazen gangand a torch in handand a vernacular of painwith a carboy anda half full demijohnwell he took me by the nape(i had my blue leather on)and i said"no, i am that mercy mercenary!" From Letras Mania