The Taxpayers — Plant Oak
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Текст The Taxpayers — Plant Oak
Mother Mary, make me good. Give me money. Give me hope
Where is the door? What should I do? Clouds have gathered under you
Hey, Saint Michael, fallen from grace — you arch angel in disgrace
Where is the light? What should I do? Clouds have gathered under you
«Link hands, lie down, and tie rope. By the full moon and black skies, plant oak.»
Listen Satan, I am at a loss. No one can give me a word with God
Where is the power? Where is the truth?
«You know the answer, you know what to do: Link hands, lie down, and tie rope. By the full moon and black skies, plant oak.»
