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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

at you
You're the son of the strays
You can in your prison for days
But you'll get anywhere
a pain
But the shine on the of your blade
Couldn't give all the waiting
You were everywhere
away
You are not just of yourself
You're a of the scenery,damned to hell

you see
We are not going to play at your
We are not to ask you for names
Or for of your history
Did you
That your said it's all wrong
Just to it going along
a part of our mystery
our job, you see

You'll
There is no point in you go
We can wait the end of the show
the audience fades away
Turn
You can laugh at the mess in room
It's a nightmare never can end for you

you see
We are not going to play at games
We are not to ask you for names
Or for part of history
Did you
That your father it's all wrong
Just to keep it along
It's a part of our
our job you see

You'll
There is no point in you go
We can wait the end of the show
Till the audience away
Turn
You can at the mess in your room
It's a that never can end for you

you see
We are not going to at your games
We are not going to ask you for
Or for of your history
Did you
That your said it's all wrong
Just to it going along
It's a of our mystery.

(written by nazareth)
Copyright 1982 circle music limited
All reserved.
Lyrics by permission
Reproduction