Number of Lyrics in Album : 11
By Bree Sharp, Radios, TV shows
Fill my holes with your goodies
I sold my
By Bree Sharp, A cheap and evil girl sets out on the city
She's
By Bree Sharp, It's Sunday night, I am curled up in my room
The
By Bree Sharp, Lucy is gazing, out into space
She has starry eyes, starry
By Bree Sharp, The leather boots I was born in
Are tattered, torn out
By Bree Sharp, My head is heavy and bent like a crane
The
By Bree Sharp, In this concrete jungle void of charms
With the take-out,
By Bree Sharp, I stutter like a broken clutch
When you touch me too
By Bree Sharp, Solitary girl I have been
Living in a cell made of
By Bree Sharp, You put your face in front of mine
All but hiding
By Bree Sharp, The moon is pulling at me,
The moon is pulling