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Biting The Bullet - Kill the Young



     
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Biting The Bullet Lyrics


Biting the bullet, biting the bullet
Every time you come around
You've got me feeling good
So the bad boy
So the sadly misunderstood
Always try to talk to me
I don't know what to say
Wonder why that thing about you
Got me so amazed
Ashamed of my desire
Just can't put out the fire
Didn't build it up to watch it fall
Oh you make me go insane
Now you got me up against the wall
Biting the bullet again
Where do you go?
What do you say?
I don't wanna be obsessed

I wanna take a rest from
Trying to be and trying to say
It's gonna break me
If I'm biting the bullet again
At every touch I feel that this is
Never gonna fade
Knowing with certainty, it is too late
Looking at ya, feeling that ya
May be my demise
I'm forgetting everything
I used to think was wise
I'll let you take me higher
Your taste, your smell, it's fire
Didn't build it up to watch it fall
Oh you make me go insane
Now you got me up against the wall
Biting the bullet again
Biting the bullet
Where do you go?
What do you say?
I don't wanna be obsessed
I wanna take a rest from
Trying to be and trying to say
It's gonna break me
If I'm biting the bullet again
Where do you go?
What do you say?
I don't wanna be obsessed
I wanna take a rest from
Trying to be and trying to say
It's gonna break me
If I'm biting the bullet again
Your taste, your smell, it's fire
Didn't build it up to watch it fall
Oh you make me go insane
Now you got me up against the wall
Biting the bullet again
Where do you go?
What do you say?
I don't wanna be obsessed
I wanna take a rest from
Trying to be and trying to say
It's gonna break me
If I'm biting the bullet again

Enjoy the lyrics !!!

THREE brothers. From Congleton’s sticky, striking Northern-punkedup-streets. Brought up – like all good United fans - on a diet of Cantona, Coogan and Cobain. Which just about covers it all. Kicking around. Mucking around. Fucking around. Playing football. All the time. Missing meals. But mostly: Missing meals through Playing instruments. Put the youngest one on drums and in goal. The oldest up front and up front and on guitar. The middle one holding it together in midfield with bass and box-to-box stolid stamina. That analogy never really works. Let’s try it again.

Read more about Kill the Young on Last.fm.


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Kill the Young