I Raise My Craving Hands Lyrics
| Song | I Raise My Craving Hands |
| Artist | Enslavement of Beauty |
| Album | Mere Contemplations |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Ole Alexander Myrholt ... | |
| The Polaroid of perfection, demirep and stained with hate | |
| Well wounded I stuttle the crowd with my vogue lack of faith | |
| The up and coming vendetta, the # vultures' extremes | |
| Spruce me up with a sweet little plaything, spruce me fucking supreme | |
| I raise my craving hands, to the image of her promised land | |
| The succulent teenage cunt, tempteth me to exeunt | |
| Wish me well, wish me hell...all I ever wanted was a story to tell | |
| The absence of goals, the lack of control | |
| The absence of aim and the present fame... | |
| The absence of goals, the lack of control | |
| Everyone knows I should be extolled | |
| The absence of aim and the present fame | |
| Everyone would sell their souls to play this game | |
| ...it's the game we play... |
| zuo qu : Ole Alexander Myrholt ... | |
| The Polaroid of perfection, demirep and stained with hate | |
| Well wounded I stuttle the crowd with my vogue lack of faith | |
| The up and coming vendetta, the vultures' extremes | |
| Spruce me up with a sweet little plaything, spruce me fucking supreme | |
| I raise my craving hands, to the image of her promised land | |
| The succulent teenage cunt, tempteth me to exeunt | |
| Wish me well, wish me hell... all I ever wanted was a story to tell | |
| The absence of goals, the lack of control | |
| The absence of aim and the present fame... | |
| The absence of goals, the lack of control | |
| Everyone knows I should be extolled | |
| The absence of aim and the present fame | |
| Everyone would sell their souls to play this game | |
| ... it' s the game we play... |
| zuò qǔ : Ole Alexander Myrholt ... | |
| The Polaroid of perfection, demirep and stained with hate | |
| Well wounded I stuttle the crowd with my vogue lack of faith | |
| The up and coming vendetta, the vultures' extremes | |
| Spruce me up with a sweet little plaything, spruce me fucking supreme | |
| I raise my craving hands, to the image of her promised land | |
| The succulent teenage cunt, tempteth me to exeunt | |
| Wish me well, wish me hell... all I ever wanted was a story to tell | |
| The absence of goals, the lack of control | |
| The absence of aim and the present fame... | |
| The absence of goals, the lack of control | |
| Everyone knows I should be extolled | |
| The absence of aim and the present fame | |
| Everyone would sell their souls to play this game | |
| ... it' s the game we play... |
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