spore licking with the fever
like something in the spirit
gives our kin's stud an extra hour
to streak his hair
and feed his sparrow
franco inferno
franco inferno
franco
franco, franco, franco
every minute i'll be neither
with the patience in the winter
the ceiling we've painted litchenstein
no one knows about the crease delight
we can let it sign
his sparrow hints of the sick and bent
he bent the slickest end
franco, franco, franco, franco, franco, franco, franco
we're dead and gone to franco's pad
open leisure
sparrow easier
franco freezer
sparrow easier
franco inferno
franco inferno
franco inferno


Lyrics submitted by sundays89

Franco Inferno song meanings
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