чеза хуета кричит на фоне

FACE — VLONE (with Kaneki screams)

this is an @menthol100s song cover it cause he took it down, if want the song took down dm @d.mt on discord
cover my by @dmtuser

Used to know a girl who would always make me cry
I'm a stupid fucking drunk, I'm a pretty shitty guy
Step on every fucking ant whenever I'm outside
Everybody makes me horny and I wanna see you die
ima show this to my mom, all my music's fucking weird
She be singing "corridor"  how much of me will she hear?
And I hate emo girls, they should really disappear
Unless they love gothangelz, then I guess they're in the clear 
I be walkin' outside on my Instagram Live
I'm a constant pessimist, but my DMs are so dry
Everyone thinks I'm a pedophile and they want me dead
But I'm pretty fucking based, so I made this shit instead
I'm a fucking skeleton, what more do you want from me?
I can swim, I can ski, I can wander, I can flee
I'm an omnipotent being in all places I can be
Listen to my fucking music if  nobody hears your pleas

Back To My Fucking Day Job Cover

FACE-ЮМОРИСТ(Молчат Дома Тоска)

Пожалуйста только не домой (sped up)

sapphire x dota 2

дурачье лайфстайл

4:30 zitraks speed up

fine night x uglyfacekid

все хотят меня поцеловать х dota2

Deko x dusty and damaged - sink saiko

I met you behind a ten-cent jukebox,
You wore last winter’s loneliness like a scarf around your head.
Your laugh was a lopsided bell,
We traded crooked smiles and fragile light dreams.
I had a pocket full of promises,
You had a folded map of heartache and a rosary of dust.
We sat on the curb and counted stars with hands that felt like stone,
Swore the night would mend us, or we’d mend it on our own.

Love’s a tin cup, toss it up, pass it round and don’t you drop it,
Fill it with the little things — a half-finished kiss, transient bliss.
We drink the bitter, swallow slow, spit the sugar on the floor,
Tin-cup valentine, I’ll keep coming back for more.

You braided the moon into your hair, I hammered songs on an empty tin,
Played a chorus with a rusted spoon and the silence crawled right in.
There’s a alley-cat sermon, and a preacher made of cards,

We learned to pray to odd machines and love the things that scar.
We stitched each other’s sleeves with laughter, sewed a button on the past,
Hung our faded photographs where the draughts would never last.
When the world put a black hat on morning and the clocks forgot to chime,
You pressed your hand to my chest and set the heartbeat back in time.

Love’s a tin cup, toss it up, pass it round and don’t you drop it,
Fill it with the little things — a whispered joke, vanished in smoke.
We drink the bitter, swallow slow, spit the sugar on the floor,
Tin-cup valentine, I’ll keep coming back for more.

Listen - lovers are like streetlamps: some flicker, some burn long.
You can patch a lamp with tape and a prayer, or you can let it hum its wrong.
But when the rain comes down and the benches start to pray,
You’ll find that light you thought was gone under the lid of yesterday.

There’s a man down on Mulberry who knits hope from cigarette smoke,
And a child who uses matchsticks to make gods that won’t revoke.
We’re all just walking, holding hands with ghosts that used to be,
Trading broken lullabies and calling them fidelity.

If someday the winds get greedy and the city steals our names,
If winter chews the porch-light and only memory remains,
I’ll dig you from the pockets of the world, where lost things go to hide,
Press your face to mine like thunder, let the thunder be our guide.
We’ll dance on the roofs of laundry, spin with the wash-line flags,
Toast dawn with a chipped-up teacup, laugh at the ragged tags.
‘Cause love don’t need a label, don’t need a proper shrine,
It’ll sing through a cracked radio or hide inside a dime.

Love’s a tin cup, toss it up, pass it round and don’t you drop it,
Fill it with the little things — a half-finished kiss, transient bliss.
We drink the bitter, swallow slow, spit the sugar on the floor,
Tin-cup valentine, I’ll keep coming back for more.

Keep your coins, keep your tidy plans, I only want your hand.
When the nights get mean and the lights go low, I’ll be your fellow woman.
We’ll hold the cup between us, humming low and out of time,
Two thieves in a backstreet church — tin-cup valentine.

Track from the album "Tin-Cup Valentine²

Tin-Cup Valentine

Buy at Bandcamp

4:30 zitraks speed up

REQUIEfreM?

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shekayo

whynotoga墮落者

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