one on thursday - teksty piosenek, wg trafności (od zawsze) - Teksciory.pl

Thursday Side of the Street - Knapsack

"She walks to the store for some cat box sand She stops for a drink and meets a man He says I wish you were over now He buys her a drink, they stumble to his house She likes to drink with broken men They"

City Love (Any Given Thursday) - John Mayer

"I never liked this Apple much It always seemed too big to touch I can't remember how I found My way before she came around I tell everyone I smile just because I got a city love I found it in Lydia And"

A Good Song - Thursday

"So i decide to close my eyes, and age, the while take a hint, relax in time it's only thursday, to hell with this day Keep me hangin on, i can't remain keep me hangin on to your embrace when i saw"

Dead Songs - Thursday

"Dead songs are drowning out voices of compassion with a sigh "Alright?" Alright. Deadlines are winding down Fatal clocks keep ticking off dead time Nothing hurts, nothing moves, nothing stays No one hopes"

This song is brought - Thursday

"This song is brought To You By A Falling Bomb Do you hear the jet plane yawning miles across the sky>Do you hear the garbage truck back down the boulevardSetting off the car alarms as it passes by?Do you"

Concealer - Thursday

"With fists raised high in tightened knots The room explodes and now this blood is on your hands And there is no time for a second chance To paint my face with blood and tears and cover up In an open"

This Song Brought To You By A Falling Bomb - Thursday

"do you hear the jet plane yawning miles across the sky? do you hear the garbage truck back down the boulevard, setting off the car alarms as it passes by? do you hear the static of one thousand detuned"

This Side Of Brightness - Thursday

"I sewed it up Stitched all these dead end streets Into the sewn up seams of my heartstrings unwind(unwound) Like a petal pulled from an open flower. Surrounds by fields where children sign but don't make"

The Lovesong Writer - Thursday

"Sitting alone in the dark of a stadium He whispers his secrets into a cheap guitar With the flick of his wrist he turns words into melodies Chords into church bells, fill up the allies Lovers intwine in"

Where The Circle Ends - Thursday

"Mountain ranges Morning red bathed ridges Stab up at the trembling blue horizon Grey slides lazily off rooftops Lands on the incandescent ground and dies A flock of little men touch down on the thin surface"

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