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Published on Apr 4, 2011
http://www.myspace.com/salmonlebon ENGLISH VERSION I'd like to see you dying in line I watch you with half a smile in my hands I've got a quarter of a tequila glass, it's the divine plane And he (God) sends missionary zombies To pray there wouldn't be enough beads on the rosary No mercy Stone Hearted, wedding ring on your middle finger my friend We are like seeds fallen over the granite (meaning that we as human being we are like the black dot over the granite.....hardly visible to the naked eyes) A pervert in a cloak emanates a celestial light You've got a crown of thorns on your head I go inside the church with a Winchester rifle Everything's ok, Everything's ok For a life drawing a cross in the air with two fingers And how is it going? And how are you doing? I Know life is a bitch, I've written her numbers in every toilet Inked rain, I wait under with white sheets Before you sweep me away With the name of Katrina's (referring to hurricane Katrina) Pray Shiva My story line is destructive I have a personal God(jesus) inside a personal(joint)of Cannabis sativa No compromise Give'em what they ask for, I record verses on the phone Hoping that they'll intercept it I speak with gestures from the Morse Code Whose stares remain enchanted, I ruin those who listen to me like the Doors in the 70's Everything's ok, Everything's ok I dream of skeletons and dead children on swings God (Jesus) died in vain, God (Jesus) died in every human being God(Jesus) died in all the the Vatican City banks Everything's Ok, Everything's Ok Between the hyena bites We are like like Alice in Chains (referring to an American metal group) And how it's going? How are you? I know life is a bitch, I've written her numbers in every toilet I'd like to see you die one on top of each other piled up If you can't stand me, queue behind the 8 thousand Pray deeply, no one sleeps, My corpse is getting shape Here I die inside two steps of freedom, put there in an illogical sense A cyanotic Christ follows me with his sight inside a painting Optical effect! Everything seems normal, normal Like a priest, a minor and sexual abuse Motherfuckers Christian Mafia craves, what counts is money Can't see if the eyes blur I smoke and anxiety eats me A scare one thinks about himself, and the rest goes by itself 'cause it's handy not to know, so I say that Everything's ok, Everything's ok If you die, I die We'll do it together We are ruined, without dream, without faith, No money, no Church A personal God (Jesus)