in love The things we're guilty of These days we're dreaming of These days we're dreaming of These days we're dreaming of These days we're dreaming
Translation: Roses Are Red. These Days.
back together again These days we're dreaming of The ways we fell in love The things we're guilty of Still raining... Another day inside Why are you
young black faces Whose death and blood consecrated these places Raney's mother said Raney stay at my side For you are my blessing, you are my pride
days are shining through These are better days, baby These are better days, baby Better days are shining through These are better days These are better days
Last time: Bound for Shady Grove. (Right on over to Lonesome Traveler) Lips as red as the bloomin' rose, eyes of the deepest brown, You are the darlin
By the shores of gitche gumee by the shining big- sea- water downward through the evening twilight in the days that are forgotten >from the land of
banners be unfurled Hold the Red Star proudly high in hand We are the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx Our great computers fill the hallowed halls. We are
Some days I feel I'm standing on the end of a ledge Cos these pressures in the world are pushing me to my edge (yeah) Some days I wish I had no family
cheese head word to Vince Lombardi Word to Marky Mark leave a snitch departed All that blood like the Red Sea parted My gun go crazy like it's retarded Red
bottle of red, a bottle of white It all depends upon your appetite I'll meet you any time you want In our Italian Restaurant. Things are okay with me these days
of scars they cut into you Blisters rose colored hue Mayday we're going down These mescaline memories are morose Your kerosine company is comatose Our days are
to send you roses before your death is staged When understanding violence, suspects know their fate I want another reason why I never help myself I waste my days
Not a threat, an area witness won't injure the promise Monster lead- carry your ligament fanged in the mosh pit Dodge vapor, labor days are major A sir
Play the martyr in the play Of the story about you and I Some days everything is red like roses without thorns Loves me loves me not, soft petals slowly hit the floor Are
cross up there... That thou mayest repent these days... Weep, my father weep...weep black thy heavens grace Bleed, my father, bleed. Bleed red my blessed
in these streets Who wanna mobb wit me? I do dirty You wanna Mob wit me? Yes, I do dirty It's all you what you see, I know what Ain't no playin' in these
begun in earnest, ignite hell's hungry furnace Behold the bold inauguration of the dark side Demonic passions climbing, ill fated stars aligning Tonight these sights are
