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artistas con inicial
T
letras de
The Blood Brothers
CRIMES
0 opinión
Letra y Significado de
CRIMES,
The Blood Brothers
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Letra
Oh no! Esta misteriosa letra aun no encontro explicación. Si estas acá, podes ser la primer persona que aporte el significado de esta canción. No es necesario registrarse, puede ser anonimo. Hace clic en el botón verde y envianos tu opinión.
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Envia tu opinión de CRIMES
Envia tu opinión de CRIMES
There's a fire on
Junk Island where
they send their garbage
is anybody listening?
After work we'll watch
the seagulls diving in
and out of the lashing towers of flame.
It twinkles like a pile
of rotting jewels left
to bake in the sun.
Is anybody listening?
We're just like those condom wrappers: used up torn up
thrown away.
And we're just like yesterday's headlines:
drifting, floating, towards the blaze.
If we rob the
liquor store we could
be in Tijuana by the crack of dawn.
If we rob the
mayor's mansion
we could pawn his modern art and make a fortune.
If we rob the lonely widow
we could steal her credit cards
and buy a cottage by the ocean.
And we could swim out to Junk Island we'll burn up like the seagulls
and the whiskey bottles.
We're scrapped valentines.
We're tangerine rinds.
We're crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes.
[x4]
And the children
in the subway
eating apple cores.
Is anybody listening?
They're breathing paint out of plastic bags.
Their mumbled mouths say:
"Is anybody listening?"
Corregir Letra
Corregir Letra
There's a fire on Junk Island where they send their garbage is anybody listening? After work we'll watch the seagulls diving in and out of the lashing towers of flame. It twinkles like a pile of rotting jewels left to bake in the sun. Is anybody listening? We're just like those condom wrappers: used up torn up thrown away. And we're just like yesterday's headlines: drifting, floating, towards the blaze. If we rob the liquor store we could be in Tijuana by the crack of dawn. If we rob the mayor's mansion we could pawn his modern art and make a fortune. If we rob the lonely widow we could steal her credit cards and buy a cottage by the ocean. And we could swim out to Junk Island we'll burn up like the seagulls and the whiskey bottles. We're scrapped valentines. We're tangerine rinds. We're crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes. [x4] And the children in the subway eating apple cores. Is anybody listening? They're breathing paint out of plastic bags. Their mumbled mouths say: "Is anybody listening?"
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