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letra de gardenias - protest the hero

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the hapless hills of hollywood hide halfhearted happiness
a hardened heroine hangs her head
hear her hyperventilate
here, her hands had hammered home
her half-written history, yeah

with her heart in her hands
her hands stopped holding on, yeah

a penny for your thoughts
a quarter for the show
the truth should turn to rot
whichever way the wind blows

the truth, yes, a blonde
despondent from her failures
fury raging claiming innocence lost
that sp-wned chaotic behavior

a handbag and some women’s shoes
hidden on the forest floor
discovered by a hiker on the hill
haphazardly hanging out was her self-destruction
and her handwritten history, yeah

“i’m afraid i’m a coward, i’m sorry for everything”
yeah

a penny for your thoughts
a quarter for the show
the truth should turn to rot
whichever way the wind blows

a penny for your thoughts
a quarter for the show
the truth should turn to rot
whichever way the wind blows

the truth, yes, a blonde
couldn’t give a sh-t about her failures
suffering in silence, chemical imbalance
that sp-wned erratic behavior

the truth, yes, a blonde
yes, a blonde, yes, a blonde
apparent in the night, but absent come the dawn
the truth, yes a blonde
yes, a blonde, yes, a blonde
apparent in the night, but absent come the dawn

where is the country i came here to find?
it’s running its hands through my hair
its borders and boundaries are clearly defined
it’s forty-five feet through the air
only the night sky will witness my flight
without so much as a care
out past the margins of all that’s finite
it’s forty-five feet through the air

it’s forty-five feet from here to there
it’s forty-five feet through the air
it’s forty-five feet to bliss from despair
only forty-five feet through the air

it’s forty-five feet from here to there
it’s forty-five feet through the air
it’s forty-five feet to bliss from despair
just forty-five feet through the air

forty-five feet from here to there
forty-five feet through the air
it’s forty-five feet to bliss from despair
just forty-five feet through the air

the world rushes past and it’s softly obscured
by the quiet and stillness of death
take from me this body
it’s all that i have left

floating effortlessly
the scent of gardenias in the air
a veil should mask her face
and her short blonde hair

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS

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