End Game
I've been looking out for zero since I don't remember when
Praying not to draw that same old blank again
But it seems at last time passing tears your paper shield apart
And love, the silver bullet, leaves its shrapnel in the heart
M'dame, M'sieur, les jeux sont faits
Praying not to draw that same old blank again
But it seems at last time passing tears your paper shield apart
And love, the silver bullet, leaves its shrapnel in the heart
M'dame, M'sieur, les jeux sont faits
Credits
Writer(s): David Harley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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