Píše se rok 1991. V Los Angeles je parný den, téměř k padnutí. Nikdo netuší, že tento den se zapíše do hudební historie! Právě teď se totiž pokládá základní kámen nejúspěšnější rockové skupiny 21.století: Linkin park. 14-ti letý Mike Shinoda a...

Píseň: And one

Interpret:
Linkin Park
Album:
Under Attack (B-Sides)
Where should I start? 
Disjointed heart 
I've got no commitment 
To my own flesh and blood 
Left all alone 
Far from my home 
No one to hear me, to heal my ill heart, I 


Keep it locked up inside 


Cannot express 
To the point I've regressed 
If anger's a gift, then I guess I've been blessed, I 


Keep it locked up inside 
Keep my distance from your lies 


its too late to love me now 
you have never showed me 
its too late to love me now 
you don't even know me 


Breaking a part of my heart to find release 
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace 
Breaking a part of my heart to find release 
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace 


Breaking a part of my heart to find release (Break) 
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace (Me) 
Breaking a part of my heart to find release (Too) 
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace 


Keep it locked up inside 
Keep my distance from your lies 


Breaking a part of my heart to find release (Break) 
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace (Me) 
Breaking a part of my heart to find release (Too) 
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace 
Breaking a part of my heart to find release 
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace 
Breaking a part of my heart to find release 
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace 


Keep my distance 
Keep my distance 
Keep my distance 
Keep my distance 


Spit drips in the jar, the witless witness 
Cryptic colloquialism shifts your midrift 
Dark all I do embark the shadows, 
Involved with my thought catalogue, analogue, rap catalogue 
Keep my distance, and fear resistance, hurt by persistance, 
The twisted web of tangled lies strangles my hope to waste and numbs the taste the taste 
And I'm forced to face these hate crimes against the state of being 
Feeling the weightlessness pressed between the ceiling, reeling around room, 
Riding a bubble of sound proof, 
it's the frequency making you shake-shake with every boom 
Involuntary muscle contraction, 
ignoring and drinking musical gas fume euphoria 
The sound pounds to make the dead flush 
to have you a head rush 
with red thoughts and said stuff.