Vertaling: The Brothers Jacques. De Cellist.
ca la rendait folle se trouvant dans son entresol Si seule si seule LA VIOLONCELLISTE Mesdames, mesdemoiselles, messieurs Prenez bien garde au violoncelle La musique adoucit les moeurs Mais elle detruit aussi les coeurs les
but they're all bitten So now they're drawn away Killing brain cells, wasting away Killing brain cells, pure misery Killing brain cells, renounce, relapse Killing brain cells
Ever since you told me we were through I've been down, I've been down The love you said I'd find to take your place Never came around, never came around
I turned myself unto myself and asked myself who you are well, you made me but what do I love when I'm with you I WONDER WHERE YOUR TOUNGE HAS BEEN
we have shed tears I'm calling time I'll bring you back, back from the brink I'll dry your tears You see, in our bodies, in our bodies There are cells
and bends My mind is happy, thinking 'bout a ball and at the same time the media spits out the reality of war So it's rust in all the cells Santa Claus
Ich weiss nur wo ich weiterhin bleibe Weiss nur wo ich scheinbar immer war Ich weiss nur, dass ich noch hier bleibe Weiss nur, dass ich wohl immer hier
Du lebst schon immer dein Leben für uns du gibst alles und gibst es umsonst für die Kinder und mich bist du immer da wird dir das nicht mal
need to learn is how to hold hands Then we could live in peace in my homeland God damn the way my pain swells I spend all my time killin' brain cells
Stitch in your knitted brow And you don't know how You're gonna get it out Crushed under heavy chest Tryna? catch your breath But it always beats you
Don't know what to do anymore I've lost the only love worth fighting for And I'll drown in my tears, don't they see? And that would show you, that would
I, I was the lonely one Wondering what went wrong Why love had gone And left me lonely I, I was so confused Feeling like I'd just been used Then you
When she comes with a ghost of a smile And she roams through his eyes for a while Days turn as empty ground somewhere Bring the gods, line ?em up one
Life is made out of cells Cells make copies of themselves And they make copies of themselves And they make copies of themselves Different cells have
question this machine, education, the dead american dream, in indiana the number of cells built is determined by the socio-economic status of a class of second graders, the cells
all she promises can't be slave to the image display your illness you became slave, stupid fucker! how long will it last all a story to live one thousand of cells