Salmo - Un Dio Personale (Official Video) descargar videos gratis

http://www.myspace.com/salmonlebon

ENGLISH VERSION

I'd like to see you dying in line

I watch you with half a smile in my hands

I've got a quarter of a tequila glass, it's the divine plane

And he (God) sends missionary zombies

To pray there wouldn't be enough beads on the rosary

No mercy

Stone Hearted, wedding ring on your middle finger my friend

We are like seeds fallen over the granite

(meaning that we as human being we are like the black dot over the granite.....hardly visible to the naked eyes)

A pervert in a cloak emanates a celestial light

You've got a crown of thorns on your head

I go inside the church with a Winchester rifle

Everything's ok, Everything's ok

For a life

drawing a cross in the air with two fingers

And how is it going?

And how are you doing?

I Know life is a bitch, I've written her numbers in every toilet

Inked rain, I wait under with white sheets

Before you sweep me away

With the name of Katrina's (referring to hurricane Katrina)

Pray Shiva

My story line is destructive

I have a personal God(jesus) inside a personal(joint)of Cannabis sativa

No compromise

Give'em what they ask for, I record verses on the phone

Hoping that they'll intercept it

I speak with gestures from the Morse Code

Whose stares remain enchanted,

I ruin those who listen to me like the Doors in the 70's

Everything's ok, Everything's ok

I dream of skeletons and dead children on swings

God (Jesus) died in vain, God (Jesus) died in every human being

God(Jesus) died in all the the Vatican City banks

Everything's Ok, Everything's Ok

Between the hyena bites

We are like like Alice in Chains (referring to an American metal group)

And how it's going?

How are you?

I know life is a bitch, I've written her numbers in every toilet

I'd like to see you die one on top of each other piled up

If you can't stand me, queue behind the 8 thousand

Pray deeply, no one sleeps,

My corpse is getting shape

Here I die inside two steps of freedom, put there in an illogical sense

A cyanotic Christ follows me with his sight inside a painting

Optical effect!

Everything seems normal, normal

Like a priest, a minor and sexual abuse

Motherfuckers

Christian Mafia craves, what counts is money

Can't see if the eyes blur

I smoke and anxiety eats me

A scare one thinks about himself, and the rest goes by itself

'cause it's handy not to know, so I say that

Everything's ok, Everything's ok

If you die, I die

We'll do it together

We are ruined, without dream, without faith,

No money, no Church

A personal God (Jesus)