CORRIGER LES PAROLES

Paroles : Evening Redness

I am not sure of a world outside this wine
But if there is one then I am a bastard of it
Feel the embers warm my bones
In the wasteland that is west

The mountain man is a scary beacon
Decide what kind of martyrs we should grow
From the cedar table stands disgust
Of a chopped up sewer man
Impale them all and live like kings