Child of the city, Mother of the Earth Baptism by firefly, pinch a parson?s purse. Queen of Cups the Joker?s blade is old and dull. Child of the City
magical guise as an example of its practical application. Whatever the case, it's good material for rock and roll lyrics." Child of the city, Mother
Clopin Morning in Paris, the city awakes To the bells of Notre Dame The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes To the bells of Notre Dame To the big bells
up to be sad-a-pus Gotta keep a child because I'm tryin' to get paid Yeah, gotta shake these city slickers outta my way But now mother's day I didn'
man, I think he's faking the band Y'all will either run the world or destroy it while holding hands Architect, terrible vet with bent flashback Me clutching
contentment In a time of riddling reasons in this land of the blind By the joke of fate alone it's sure that as the loved hand leaves you You clutch
the stolen citrus out they pyramids Merry without a slapstick mavericks plugged directly to 3rd rail surges Piss on electric mayhem through city commuter circuits Oooh child
oxygen purification Sure AS blurry had them speeennnd breeezzzzze Stuck until my friend leaves puppet for the plummet committee Sputtering bum numb enough to stomach the city
Clopin: Morning in Paris, the city awakes To the bells of Notre Dame The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes To the bells of Notre Dame To the big
Welcome to the new devil's church City streets and alleyways Seems to me he's found a new perch In the place where your child plays My hands are bleeding
a soul" "Is it me?" A child will love its parents Will follow them down She swears to the pavement's heart of stone That these city lights will be her
I breathe My throat clenches Clutching to exclude A dozen different stenches In Falmouth Bay A blue whale rolls Gonna drown in the swill From city sewer
*Clopin* Each morning in Paris the city awakes to the bells of Notre Dame. The fisherman fishes the bakerman bakes to the bells of Notre Dame. To the
[Ron Clutch] I'm just a, big bang baller on a budget Dank weed, smokin like "fuck it" City slicker, country nigga, reppin straight from Kentucky Horseshoes
prison This traffic drives me crazy, going West on two-eighty Five bitch almost made me, crash into her Mercedes I'm glad I almost missed her, I pushed the clutch
safety nets so I can catch heads on the way down/ Found limits the breath that I breathe in this life that I lead/ It?s where the city?s smog infested
