John Cazale Was a Dancer

Brother, open up your eyes
Brother, won't You drink with me?
Your face is So lovely pale

Just one shot
For the sake of old times

Brother, game is over, stop it
Stand up, we are going home
I will place my bet on You

Just one shot
For The sake of old times

Now that You're and empty hole
Zero, that has sold his soul
We are not so proud of you



Credits
Writer(s): Pascal Bula, Hanna Went, Michal Edward Macidlowski
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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