Текст (слова) песни: Every Time I Die - Emergency Broadcast Syndrome
position the phantom rigged in reflective tape. situated like a makeshift antenna, grinning like tinfoil. we`re losing reception. we can`t pick up the game. i should be discontinued. i am a broadcasting embarrasment. hiss like the damned. decoding the transmitted pulse that dispatch from her lips. i am not recieving a sign that says i am still here anymore. do you hear me? am i coming through at all? is any of this making sense? you`ve got a ghost on your hands. a televisual image only partially clear. scrambled phantom (i wish we`d all just stop talking at once). spitting and cursing from the scrapheap we`re on. you should have lost your cool.
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