Crocodile

This Town Needs Guns

Composición de: Stuart Smith
Too cold, like ice to touch
You hold on far too much
God knows why we're in love
When you throw your temper out of doors
That I cannot follow through
And yet, you grow ever near

I promise I will not see out this night
Without comforting and holding you
Your eyes alight, they've never shined so bright
For just one second I'm lost in you
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