Threehead letra

Bless you all who made laughter, labs creation in head.
Thanks to those who wrote novel, efflorescence from the dead.
Troubled is creator whose mind is always dancing.

Dance you forehead sweats, Numbers one to six does not exist.

Goodness me the painter, every view a light.
Hugs goes to the steeple, efflorescence from the life.

I know the way to life past the 27th birthdate.
Your theories are crazy, brings nothing but maybes, your problems a-building, twenty floors said and counting.
Yes! but you know not of the mind you speak. My strength rises in dreams and in life, grows weak.
The artist, the raper, the candlestick maker, myself and I, put dreams to life.

The Most Serene Republic - Letras

• Anhoi Polloi
• Battle Hymns Of The Republic
• Career in Shaping Clay
• Compliance
• Content Was Always My Favorite Color
• Everything Given To You Is Equally Taken Away
• In Places, Empty Spaces
• Jazz Ordinaire
• Multiplication Desks
• Neurasthenia
• Not Even The Earth's Gravitational Pull Can Keep You Down
• Oh God
• Phages
• Present of Future End
• Proposition 61
• Relative's Eyes
• Sherry And Her Butterfly Net
• Shopping Card People
• Solipsism Millionaires
• St. Germain
• Stay Ups
• The Men Who Live Upstairs
• The Protagonist Suddenly Realizes
• Threehead
• Tragedy of The Commons
• Where Cedar Nouns and Adverbs Walk
• Why So Looking Back
• You're A Loose Cannon McArthur...But You Get The Job Done
• You're Not An Astronaut