vk.com/dzenpub — чёрный юмор, сатира, ирония, сарказм, сюрреализм и немного буддизма. Качественные посты для взрослых читателей без боянов и тупости Feeling funny in my mind, Lord, I believe I'm fixing to die Feeling funny in my mind, Lord I believe I'm fixing to die Well, I don't mind dying But I hate to leave my children crying Well, I look over yonder to that burying ground Look over yonder to that burying ground Sure seems lonesome, Lord, when the sun goes down
Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord, I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord I believe I'm fixing to die Well, I don't mind dying but I hate to leave my children crying There's a black smoke rising, Lord It's rising up above my head, up above my head It's rising up above my head, up above my head And tell Jesus make up my dying bed.
I'm walking kind of funny, Lord I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die Yes I'm walking kind of funny, Lord I believe I'm fixing to die Fixing to die, fixing to die Well, I don't mind dying But I hate to leave my children crying. vk.com/dzenpub — чёрный юмор, сатира, ирония, сарказм, сюрреализм и немного буддизма. Качественные посты для взрослых читателей без боянов и тупости Feeling funny in my mind, Lord, I believe I'm fixing to die Feeling funny in my mind, Lord I believe I'm fixing to die Well, I don't mind dying But I hate to leave my children crying Well, I look over yonder to that burying ground Look over yonder to that burying ground Sure seems lonesome, Lord, when the sun goes down
Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord, I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord I believe I'm fixing to die Well, I don't mind dying but I hate to leave my children crying There's a black smoke rising, Lord It's rising up above my head, up above my head It's rising up above my head, up above my head And tell Jesus make up my dying bed.
I'm walking kind of funny, Lord I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die Yes I'm walking kind of funny, Lord I believe I'm fixing to die Fixing to die, fixing to die Well, I don't mind dying But I hate to leave my children crying. | |