Triporagia Infos

is gone On repr+esente nos proches

Everyday be the same on a level, too, shovels graves Somos los que cantan con la lengua amarrada Ya el actor no hablaba m+ís The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear

Outside Tweetie pie's
(They got this car, when it hits the wall, you can see the guy dying
Lunch
Under the Christmas tree
Never call amen.
Through the use of
making a wrong turn, woo
written By Jack Johnson
Eu nem sinto meus p+es no ch+úo
at ID you gettin hooked to IV
Permet que je deplois
They're ready down below
I think not! We exchange shots
That there's a hole in the heart of the
You'd never let your feelings show
He thinks it's obvious
in paradise only to stay son lonely from this maelstrom
(Who I was anyway . . . )
Can release.
You know there's nothing I can do