High life living on the dive. Picture of gun, he wears it to his wrist. Heavy on the eyes, televangelist. I'm feeding lines to the. Sky. With your heels to your ears. A thousand pine(s) (rows rose). For tradition, tradition. Blind leading the blind. I'm fixing fourteen lines. Don't need no vision, engine goes boom boom boom.
To the sky. Look away. Look to me, my cousin. Look away.
Traps PS - Tradition Lyrics
Traps PS - Tradition Lyrics
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High life living on the dive. Picture of gun, he wears it to his wrist. Heavy on the eyes, televangelist. I'm feeding lines to the. Sky. With your heels to your ears. A thousand pine(s) (rows rose). For tradition, tradition. Blind leading the blind. I'm fixing fourteen lines. Don't need no vision, engine goes boom boom boom.
To the sky. Look away. Look to me, my cousin. Look away.
To the sky. Look away. Look to me, my cousin. Look away.
Writer: Andrew Jeffords, Danny Miller, Miles Wintner
Copyright: Lyrics © Anthem Entertainment
Copyright: Lyrics © Anthem Entertainment