The gun in his hands he starts to run
His head is empty, survival of the fittest
But then the pictures reach his brain
He's breathing quicker as he keeps one bullet for himself
| Лучшие Песни |
Слова и тексты песен |
The gun in his hands he starts to run
His head is empty, survival of the fittest
But then the pictures reach his brain
He's breathing quicker as he keeps one bullet for himself