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  • Текст песни 5591 - The Fern

    Просмотров: 8
    0 чел. считают текст песни верным
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    Тут находится текст песни 5591 - The Fern, а также перевод, видео и клип.

    Chorus:
    (Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home)

    The fern in me dies like an old navy stench
    Still sleeping with the cheap hard junkyard
    Still leaking tolerance
    To burn through this gut wrench
    This fucking gut wrench
    That I call my fence

    So re-order another row of those plastic hail marys
    And call me in the morning
    And rewind that must need, birdfeed
    Well then play it all slow-mo
    So that maybe I can understand
    How to stand on my own two knees
    Momma, take me home please

    Chorus:
    (Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home)

    I'm older, so much older
    Neither mystery toys or miscomfort opens my cover
    They don't cook happiness
    They plan to bring gifts to this life-party
    But they never show up
    You see, they lost the directions
    They lost the directions

    So many gifts to show, but no-one to show them to
    Except for imaginary friends from the night fields
    When Jesus failed you and spit on you
    In the size of a rain
    Feeding the fern in us all
    Momma, I'm twenty-six
    And I can't cook happiness
    And I still haven't found the fucking ingredients
    To cook you a happy son
    Momma, take me home

    Chorus:
    Home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home

    (Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home
    Home, home, home, home)
    Yeah, come on, home
    I'm open wide, home
    I'm open wide, home, home, home
    I'm home, come home

    The fern in me dies like an old navy stench
    Still sleeping with the cheap hard junkyard
    Still leaking tolerance
    To burn through this gut wrench

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