I think I've had enough of this. Blow me one last kiss.
Tie a knot in the rope, trying to hold, trying to hold,
But there's nothing to grab so I let go
I won't miss all of the fighting that we always did,
Take it in, I mean what I say when I say there is nothing left
No more sick whiskey dick, no more battles for me
But there's nothing to grab so I let go
I won't miss all of the fighting that we always did,
Take it in, I mean what I say when I say there is nothing left
No more sick whiskey dick, no more battles for me
- det finns en gräns för hur man kan bete sig. Nu räcker det.
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