Untitled Lyrics & Chords By The New Yorker

One night we lay beside each other, so close to a sweat with two fans circling overhead, we sleep on borrowed time and the traffic lights direct empty roads, the stars can't break...read more

I remember a phone call, a quarter past nine When you said, "this can't be," and you started to cry And I could tell by your actions, and words that you spoke, That you'd lost...read more

Instrumental ...read more

Instrumental ...read more

Ewige Blumenkraft und Fliegende Kinderscheiße Tiefer, noch einmal! Sei du nicht verlaßen in den Geboten der Ordnung Der Aufruhr des Einhandklatschens - zürst muß Ich euch mit...read more