I cut my ceilin', motor and pale.
I only know the ceilin' mouth.
I make myself, yellow the sound.
That am a leg sprung under.
Give me a gravity, your right left leg.
Holdin' my hate against me you.
Can't say you'll never keep my breath.
It's wise to think you'll try.

I grow the piston, I see the right to only
They see the right to, she knows the bit around me.

Reachin' and growin', all things in file.
Give me air to break my
to hopeful par, antenna.
Tea take the sender.
I slow your gravity, I damn your house.
Don't hang me with your force grief.

I grow the piston, I see the right to only
They see the right to, she knows the bit around me.

Lace it and only, like a barb, baby freight baby, Dean,
I'm in a line, mida make a move, cross a state rollin', to whine.
Hey, hey, hey, hey

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): ROGER OSBOURNE