Текст (слова) песни: Kind Of Like Spitting - Dostoyevsky Gets Mugged Outside A Donut
Our savior`s fallen ill, and he won`t get up We`ve cast away our stones, why won`t he get up? So unawake with you, you let me drive your car You let me break your heart and still not want to give up So now the only time I get to see you smile Is in the darkest rooms with the brownest tiles And to hear you laugh is a sweet refrain So sick with joy, I`m the perfect boy Our savior`s fallen ill, but here`s a souvenir Another saint to pierce against your bedroom wall It says you can`t give up and that you won`t wake up Until you close your eyes and lay down
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