Justyna & Boban: Kto wciska mi kit
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Justyna & Boban: Kto wciska mi kit
Get lost and die
I snap my finger
Who sells me a wind-up
Shall remember what disgrace means
A cloudy, moonless night
So dogs are howling to the neon lights
Where do you come from through this neighbourhood?
Hurrying back home surreptitiously in the dark?
Don't pull wool over my eyes
I'm a big girl now
At midnight,
I write a bad witch's e-mail
On a poisoned keyboard
Oh, an immediate relief
Your guardian angel
Has been busy somewhere tonight
So you'll be the one to get slaughtered
No matter how you'd try to hide
I know some tricky words too
That raise heat
And I did store
A certain reliable spell to cast
There'll be wine and moussaca
I'll put something into your glass
I'll make you a poor thing
And I won't resuscitate you, that's sure
Butt you out
You'll be dancing with the devil
I won't help you
You're that lady's problem already
The blues are gone
This wicked pain
Won't hurt me anymore
Get lost and die
I snap my finger
Who sells me a wind-up
Shall remember what disgrace means
Oh you'll be cursing that day
When you met me
I'll muddle your pulse
You'll have your Gypsy blues
And you'll be squirming
Begging with all your might
Some day, if you feel like it
You'll send me a text message from hell
I snap my finger
Who sells me a wind-up
Shall remember what disgrace means
A cloudy, moonless night
So dogs are howling to the neon lights
Where do you come from through this neighbourhood?
Hurrying back home surreptitiously in the dark?
Don't pull wool over my eyes
I'm a big girl now
At midnight,
I write a bad witch's e-mail
On a poisoned keyboard
Oh, an immediate relief
Your guardian angel
Has been busy somewhere tonight
So you'll be the one to get slaughtered
No matter how you'd try to hide
I know some tricky words too
That raise heat
And I did store
A certain reliable spell to cast
There'll be wine and moussaca
I'll put something into your glass
I'll make you a poor thing
And I won't resuscitate you, that's sure
Butt you out
You'll be dancing with the devil
I won't help you
You're that lady's problem already
The blues are gone
This wicked pain
Won't hurt me anymore
Get lost and die
I snap my finger
Who sells me a wind-up
Shall remember what disgrace means
Oh you'll be cursing that day
When you met me
I'll muddle your pulse
You'll have your Gypsy blues
And you'll be squirming
Begging with all your might
Some day, if you feel like it
You'll send me a text message from hell
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