Текст (слова) песни: Qwel f Robust - If it Ain`t Been in a Pawn Shop, Then it

I`m havin` dreams of seeing Jesus on the Wilson stop
Crying` his eyes out, soaking the there t-shirt that he rocks
As the tears drop and mix with the blood from his palms
I compared his crown to yours and I began to scream psalms like
Soups open soul, soups open soul the non-stop
Unfold so he can roll and get his cross back from the pawn shop
Shocked no one can see him through his money green fog
And just then he disappeared from two kids with seeing eye dogs
They asked me who he was?
Well how should I know just a wino
Well we saw him in Border`s tearing price tags off bibles
In this game of survival of the save souls
Until I know for sure I`ll keep flyin` my tags with halos
He can`t breath because my brother`s yellin` "fuck your soul"
`Cause in this lustful world righteousness ain`t never taxed deductibles
So fold your food stamps and go collect your plate
Hoping that heaven`s open Sunday as she shakes from hunger rates
Mistakes these bullshit lessons her preachers stressing`
But never once questioned how many blessings he paid for his new Lexus
Profession, heaven`s a million miles from Chicago
We only see the stars when we`re tippin` back a bottle
Only see the stars when we`re tippin` back a bottle
He only sees the stars when he`s tippin` back a bottle
Why try to sleep? We don`t dream as much as yesterday
All our prayers infested and stress and rent to pay
But ain`t nobody hiring` on desire alone
Try to find his way home but this silence is cold
Like the Vietnam vet with the tires in his throne
Eyes turned to stone holding` wild Irish roads
With the time freezes froze he realizes it`s his breath
In a foggy bottle, To remind him he`s dead
Left to get worthless in this bus terminal
He puffs an answer to his cancer, but the circle grows
And echos in the subway "who`s gonna save us"
Sleeping under the newspaper, obituaries face up
God bless you for your pennies collect your spoils of war
Spoils himself with a meal he paid a quarter for
He`s sorta short on... Can`t afford a conversation
Sure the cloud is chasin` in the place his legs went
It`s gonna take a whole village to drown this witch
But she floats over dreams, foams when he sips
He misses his children witnesses the buildings drop
Disgusted with this rusted anchor called the Wilson stop
Disgusted with this fuckin` rusted anchor
Disgusted with this fuckin` rusted anchor called the Wilson stop
Yo, if it ain`t been in the pawn shop, then it can`t play the blues
If it ain`t been in a pawn shop, then it can`t play the blues
If it ain`t been in a pawn shop, then it can`t play the blues
If it ain`t been in a pawn shop, then it can`t play the blues
Now can it?
I guess we can all play the blues

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Все тексты песен: Qwel f Robust
» Qwel f Robust - Art of War
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Меню » Главная » Музыка » Правила » В избранное	Музыка RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Текст (слова) песни: Qwel f Robust - If it Ain`t Been in a Pawn Shop, Then it I`m havin` dreams of seeing Jesus on the Wilson stop Crying` his eyes out, soaking the there t-shirt that he rocks As the tears drop and mix with the blood from his palms I compared his crown to yours and I began to scream psalms like Soups open soul, soups open soul the non-stop Unfold so he can roll and get his cross back from the pawn shop Shocked no one can see him through his money green fog And just then he disappeared from two kids with seeing eye dogs They asked me who he was? Well how should I know just a wino Well we saw him in Border`s tearing price tags off bibles In this game of survival of the save souls Until I know for sure I`ll keep flyin` my tags with halos He can`t breath because my brother`s yellin` "fuck your soul" `Cause in this lustful world righteousness ain`t never taxed deductibles So fold your food stamps and go collect your plate Hoping that heaven`s open Sunday as she shakes from hunger rates Mistakes these bullshit lessons her preachers stressing` But never once questioned how many blessings he paid for his new Lexus Profession, heaven`s a million miles from Chicago We only see the stars when we`re tippin` back a bottle Only see the stars when we`re tippin` back a bottle He only sees the stars when he`s tippin` back a bottle Why try to sleep? We don`t dream as much as yesterday All our prayers infested and stress and rent to pay But ain`t nobody hiring` on desire alone Try to find his way home but this silence is cold Like the Vietnam vet with the tires in his throne Eyes turned to stone holding` wild Irish roads With the time freezes froze he realizes it`s his breath In a foggy bottle, To remind him he`s dead Left to get worthless in this bus terminal He puffs an answer to his cancer, but the circle grows And echos in the subway "who`s gonna save us" Sleeping under the newspaper, obituaries face up God bless you for your pennies collect your spoils of war Spoils himself with a meal he paid a quarter for He`s sorta short on... Can`t afford a conversation Sure the cloud is chasin` in the place his legs went It`s gonna take a whole village to drown this witch But she floats over dreams, foams when he sips He misses his children witnesses the buildings drop Disgusted with this rusted anchor called the Wilson stop Disgusted with this fuckin` rusted anchor Disgusted with this fuckin` rusted anchor called the Wilson stop Yo, if it ain`t been in the pawn shop, then it can`t play the blues If it ain`t been in a pawn shop, then it can`t play the blues If it ain`t been in a pawn shop, then it can`t play the blues If it ain`t been in a pawn shop, then it can`t play the blues Now can it? I guess we can all play the blues Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям: Прямая ссылка на текст песни If it Ain`t Been in a Pawn Shop, Then it: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/116/1/892.html Все тексты песен: Qwel f Robust » Qwel f Robust - Art of War » Qwel f Robust - If it Ain`t Been in a Pawn Shop, Then it Рекомендуем скачать: » Елена Казанцева - Мальчики мои » Ефим Ташлицкий - Нарисуем » Евгений Коблик, Василий Придатко - Розовая чайка » Елена Фролова - Посвящение Алексею Захаренкову » Евгений Исакевич - Поединок » Елена Фролова - Серафиму Саровскому » Елена Решетняк - Новогодняя ночь » Евгений Исакевич - Про котов » Евгений Бабенко - Монолог со свежим номером журнала в руке » Елена Фролова - Николушка » Ефим Ташлицкий - Я болен, я болен стихами... » Евгений Муравьев - Смеркаюсь, сбываясь в рифмованных снах... » Евгений Романов - Припев в мажоре » Евгений Клячкин - В сторону Руси » Евгений Матвеев - Кто едет, тот и правит » Евгений Келлер - Собачий вальс » Елена Елизарьева - Жива старушка... » Елена Фролова - Моя заботушка, Марина... » Елена Елизарьева - Вот снова вхожу в эту комнату... » Елена Фролова - Чижик-птичка (посвящение Вере Евушкиной)
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