sosna sonie - teksty piosenek, wg trafności (od zawsze) - Teksciory.pl

Nimrod's son - The Pixies

"One night upon my motorcycle through the desert spead And smashed my body so that all my friends thought I was dead My sister held me close and whispered to my bleeding head "You are the son of a mother"

SEVENTH SON - Willie Dixon

"Well now everybody cryin' 'bout the seventh son But in the whole round world there is only one, and I'm the one, yes, I'm the one I'm the one, I'm the one, I'm the one they call the seventh"

Prodigal Son - Bad Religion

"Oh, can't you feel the nostalgia I wonder about your Modernistocrat Horatio Alger Clever never hesitating in the baiting Ever waiting for the canticle of manacles abating Did you ever forget You had a"

Fortunate Son - Creedence Clearwater Revival

"Some folks are born Made to wave the flag; Ooh, they're red, white and blue. And when the band plays "Hail to the Chief," Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord. It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no"

Hippy's Son - Dirty Pretty Things

"I am a hippy's son I'm into porn and guns I'm virile fertile Scream when I come Related to you all By six degrees I am a fire sign I've never swum with the tide Spreading honey on thorns And truths that"

Cold Son - Stephen Malkmus

"at the center where they go on weekdays it takes hours just to slake that thirst heavy heels and a daunting pulse rate bad idea for your blistered toes to my wheel, well youre getting close so say adios the"

Summer Son - Aurora feat. Lizzy Pattinson

"Im tired of telling the story Tired of telling it your way Yeh I know what I saw I know that I found the floor Before you take my heart, reconsider Before you take my heart, reconsider Ive opened the door Ive"

European Son - Japan

"Scurrying across the broadwalk Some places I tend to forget Echoings deep in my throat It's so cold in this luncheonette, well Somebody wants to know you An ordinary boy Somebody wants to know you A standard"

Fortunate Son - John Fogerty

"(John Fogerty) Some folks are born made to wave the flag, Ooh, they're red, whit and blue. And when the band plays "Hail to the chief", they point the cannon right at you. It ain't me, it ain't me. I"

Model Son - Latin Quarter

"I grew up with a scorpion behind me Sting in my rib-cage, the moment I drew air Within his means there was nothing he denied me But nothing was all we'd ever share I couldn't be a model son Models have"

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