Frank Paris
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Cruel Generations

Frank Paris

All


Ashes on the ground
smell of dirty things
The sound of television is getting higher
higher like me

The lizard's skin
Is perfect for your feets
Your bones are so thin
Could be broken by the wind

It's a shame
for yourself
to accept this damned life!
You're not blind
not so studip
to see what you've done

Dirty soul, dirty world
We never agree with no one
We're getting cold, like a stone
Fighting for the throne

And it's a shame
for myself
many people dying while I rest in my big bed
We are cruel
and pure, pure like shit
We don't think, we just shoot
Shoot!

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