Текст песни The Lost Art Of Murder

Could roll a four Could roll a nine Find yourself washed up in paradise Just like before She never used to mind I lost my phone in paradise And what a nice day for a murder You call yourself a killer but the only thing that you're killing is your time There's nothing absurder A bird is just a burden To your heart your soul your body spirit and mind Oh don't look at me like that She won't take you back You said too much, you been too unkind Get up off your back Stop smoking that You could change your life Do you think you'll change their mind No light before No light behind Someone else washed up in paradise Could roll a four Could roll a nine Find yourself washed up in paradise Just like before She never used to mind I lost my phone in paradise And what a nice day for a murder You call yourself a killer but the only thing that you're killing is your time There's nothing absurder A bird is just a burden To your heart your soul your body spirit and mind Oh don't look at me like that She won't take you back You said too much, you been too unkind Get up off your back Stop smoking that You could change your life Do you think you'll change their mind