Paroles de Franco Inferno

Spore licking with the fever Like something in the spirit Gives our kin's stud an extra hour To streak his hair And feed his sparrow Franco inferno Franco inferno Franco Franco, Franco, Franco Every minute I'll be neither With the patience in the winter The ceiling we've painted Liechtenstein No one knows about the crease delight We can let it sign His sparrow hints of the sick and bent He bent the slickest end Franco, Franco, Franco, Franco, Franco, Franco, Franco We're dead and gone to Franco's pad Open leisure Sparrow easier Franco freezer Sparrow easier Franco inferno Franco inferno Franco inferno