Wyniki wyszukiwania: maroko, portugal, espania
(185)
Teksty piosenek (185)
maroko, portugal, espania
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Church Mouth
- Portugal. The Man
"Sell me, I'm a skeptical boy And if you need help I'm not easily found We met the man in the deep, deep south With the gritty smile and the dirty old church mouth Papers, read and weigh down the stands It's"
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Sugar Cinnamon
- Portugal. The Man
"Did you ever see anyone did you ever known anyone speech trial come and lead my palms soil pressed to the knees and below because standing tall will make you grow but only sharp eyes ever know (Slip out"
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Telling Tellers Tell Me
- Portugal. The Man
"Summer came and I lost my shoes Purple gold linens, pressed them down in the basement And if don't you know or see them clouds Will step to the sky and wind... down Tell me what you know tell me what we"
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My Mind
- Portugal. The Man
"Stepping steps of floating floats that float above such shining notes they know just where we should rest policed and waiting patiently we knew where we'd gone and where we'd be we know this should"
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Shade
- Portugal. The Man
"Claims, they crawled from those clouds and over mountains cried into the streams where they ran the length of past and time that called out with their hands beside you as all the people shouted up to"
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Dawn
- Portugal. The Man
"Because its safe at the bottom this lake we know what your gonna do when you get there sit down and listen We built that cold hearted fool and on that shit he made money motives lost in a heap because"
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Oh Lord
- Portugal. The Man
"Shepherds they came stripped of their names and we were all the daughters that fell from her to ground because she needed us she needed love but we're all gone to strip that ground Shivered pores were"
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Bellies Are Full
- Portugal. The Man
"Look at him working wearing his hands to the bone just to prove where he came from The mans always worried, the man only worries himself if his pay and his bellies of mention If we had the money,"
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Children
- Portugal. The Man
"Birth me of blood oil salt sugar water pales build me black jesus cause jesus can't save me shackles pulling at your hair shine me from roots out wash me form the neck down cut me fat stores take me to"
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The Bottom
- Portugal. The Man
"How High Soldiers pull boys through rain ground to their toes ground to the dirt (oh) my They spilled down the steps filed in rows like hair likes to pour like skin loves to warm but teeth don't pull"
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