Lost Creation - Georges Michael | Текст песни

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• Lost Creation
• Georges Michael

You are a plague, a walking disease
I'll be the voice of the mute, if you please
You pushed your nails into his young flesh
Burned his wings and watched him fall to death

You ain’t nothing but a leech
Reaching elation trough misery
You fucking cancer
You ain’t nothing but a leech
Reaching climax trough agony

You fucking cancer
You fucking cancer

Day by day
You filled his lungs with sickness
Day by day
Vomiting your bullshit
Day by day
A cold euphemism
Day by day
Digging your own grave

Your golden armor is covered in rust
Few words of redemption to a deaf beggar
His hands are weapons no one can trust
Sharp as a dagger, vicious by nature

Say my name
Under the black sun, until the end of the world
Say my fucking name
Say my fucking name

Laughing while his lungs were filling with despair
Watching his humanity slowly fading away

You are a plague, a walking disease
I'll be the voice of the mute, if you please
You pushed your nails into his young flesh
Burned his wings and watched him fall into the depths

You ain’t nothing [4x]

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