Artist: # | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
| In Ribbons | The Comforts of Madness | Slow Buildings | Slow Buildings |
| Title: | Little Hammer | Artist: | Pale Saints | Album: | N/A |
| Printable Version | Submit Correction | ||||
Pounding away in the back of my head
Until I've almost lost myself
And those red and black patterns
In which nothing happens
Have made me sleep
A beautiful voice is a nail
Being pulled out of wood
Carry on little hammer
You were always my favourite toy
When the world's dead to me
In my soft ? ? ? fortunate cushion of pins(? )
Is a soldier
Slicing thin(? ) through(? ) thin(? )
The unfortunate truth sneaking in



