You, wake up, where's the tomb? Will easter come, enter my room? The lord weeps with me Toll no bell for me father But let this cup of suffering pass from me Send me no shepherd to heal my world But the angel, the dream foretold Prayed more than thrice

You, wake up, where's the tomb? Will easter come, enter my room? The lord weeps with me Toll no bell for me father But let this cup of suffering pass from me Send me no shepherd to heal my world But the angel, the dream foretold Prayed more than thrice

Every real nigga need a down bitch Every real nigga need a down bitch (down) Tryna build a family, need somebody I can do it wit' She gon' up the Glock for me that's my down bitch She gon' send them shots for me that's my down bitch Now I'm back up on

Grab your hat and fetch a camera. Go on, film the world before it happens. Sunk the glow and drowned in covers, Send for all your absent lovers things. Sheepish wolves. Looking lived in eating buttons,

Well, maybe I'm reckless, maybe bad luck, Hell maybe I'm way too much about having fun I'll send you a postcard, send me your love, Just don't give up on me yet, I'm still growing up I spent a summer down south, working for the county, trying to save for

Hasta mañana, say we'll meet again I can't do without you Time to forget, send me a letter Say you forgive, the sooner the better I just don't know Hasta mañana 'til we meet again Don't know where, don't know when Darling, our love was much too strong to

Even if it's just for the day Aggressively, we all defend the role we play Regrettably, the time's come to send you on your way We've seen it all: from bonfires of trust to flash floods of pain It doesn't really matter; don't you worry, it will all work

Time for lust, time for lie Time to kiss your life goodbye Send me money, send me green Heaven you will meet Make a contribution Bow to leper messiah And you'll get the better seat One, two, one, two three, four Spineless from the start, sucked into the

Could send her home again Ah, here she comes Here she comes, here she comes again The same old painted lady From the brow of the superbrain She'll scratch this world to pieces As she comes on like a friend But a couple of songs from your old scrapbook

Play it for the world, but it won't mean much Unless I sing this song to you I could set this song on fire I could set this song on fire, send it up in smoke I could throw it in the river and watch it sink in slowly Tie the pages to a plane and send it