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Текст (слова) песни: Pale Saints - Little Hammer



Pounding away in the back of my head

Until Ive almost lost myself

And those red and black patterns

In which nothing happens

Have made me sleep

A beautiful voice is a nail

Being pulled out of wood

Carry on little hammer

You were always my favourite toy

When the worlds dead to me

In my soft ? ? ? fortunate cushion of pins(? )

Is a soldier

Slicing thin(? ) through(? ) thin(? )

The unfortunate truth sneaking in

 

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