Sabin
Alternative / Panama
Sabin proviene de Panama y es una estrella en ascenso en la escena del Alternative. Su estilo distintivo combina elementos de Indie Pop con ritmos contagiosos, creando un sonido refrescante e irresistible.
Milk of the siren
Dream from the letter of Cyrus,
some in the same town.
The strangler feared at the sight,
then which was the sad picture?,
And the floor,
the floor, the floor was dark.
Engraved in armory,
the harm that was done.
Our mothers, our witches,
they banished and bore.
All of our sisters were killed and abused.
By swords swinging in,
who had always accused.
The words of a woman who fights for the right,
To be where they belong at the front of the line.
Tired of signs and being polite,
Your legs start to shimmer and the scars in the knife.
Dream from the letter of Cyrus,
some in the same town.
The strangler feared at the sight,
then which was the sad picture?,
Don't feel bad when these fuckers all drown.
They will never walk,
never walk again.
All of us, all of us,
all of us, all of us.
Tendring this one on a skein like a dress.
Nurtured his men,
pulled them out of their vans.
This year the resources destroy all the land.
Belayed to the power of the feminine hand.
The milk from the rivers of every morn.
Cradle you tight like your back in the womb.
The voiders souls in a covite alive.
So let's be all thankful that ego and pride.
Dream from the letter of Cyrus,
some and the smellers in town.
The strangler feared at the sight,
then which was the sad picture?,
Don't feel bad when these fuckers all drown.
Dr.
Harry Winn,
our little harlot.
His fun when he did the fun.
So guillotine, that's what's happenin'.
Columbo,
leave what is left.
Dr.
Harry Winn,
our little harlot.
His fun when he did the fun.
So guillotine,
that's what's happenin'.
Columbo, leave what is left.
Leave from the letter to the sky.
Here's the moon,
so guillotine, that's what's happenin'.
The strangler feared at the sight,
then which was the sad picture?,
Columbo,
leave what is left.
Don't feel bad when these fuckers all drown.
They cover their ears,
my love.
When you sound the alarm,
they dread for a start.
The crystal clear my life,
it is in cold to choose the road.
Dream from the letter of Cyrus,
some and the smellers in town.
The strangler feared at the sight,
then which was the sad picture?,
Columbo, leave what is left.
some in the same town.
The strangler feared at the sight,
then which was the sad picture?,
And the floor,
the floor, the floor was dark.
Engraved in armory,
the harm that was done.
Our mothers, our witches,
they banished and bore.
All of our sisters were killed and abused.
By swords swinging in,
who had always accused.
The words of a woman who fights for the right,
To be where they belong at the front of the line.
Tired of signs and being polite,
Your legs start to shimmer and the scars in the knife.
Dream from the letter of Cyrus,
some in the same town.
The strangler feared at the sight,
then which was the sad picture?,
Don't feel bad when these fuckers all drown.
They will never walk,
never walk again.
All of us, all of us,
all of us, all of us.
Tendring this one on a skein like a dress.
Nurtured his men,
pulled them out of their vans.
This year the resources destroy all the land.
Belayed to the power of the feminine hand.
The milk from the rivers of every morn.
Cradle you tight like your back in the womb.
The voiders souls in a covite alive.
So let's be all thankful that ego and pride.
Dream from the letter of Cyrus,
some and the smellers in town.
The strangler feared at the sight,
then which was the sad picture?,
Don't feel bad when these fuckers all drown.
Dr.
Harry Winn,
our little harlot.
His fun when he did the fun.
So guillotine, that's what's happenin'.
Columbo,
leave what is left.
Dr.
Harry Winn,
our little harlot.
His fun when he did the fun.
So guillotine,
that's what's happenin'.
Columbo, leave what is left.
Leave from the letter to the sky.
Here's the moon,
so guillotine, that's what's happenin'.
The strangler feared at the sight,
then which was the sad picture?,
Columbo,
leave what is left.
Don't feel bad when these fuckers all drown.
They cover their ears,
my love.
When you sound the alarm,
they dread for a start.
The crystal clear my life,
it is in cold to choose the road.
Dream from the letter of Cyrus,
some and the smellers in town.
The strangler feared at the sight,
then which was the sad picture?,
Columbo, leave what is left.