Текст и слова песни The Actual – September Had A Trigger Finger
She was killing good luck with her bare hands on cloudy nights,
Kissing off her allies with her poison lips - the trigger slips.
September was a good girl when she could be.
Whoa....
I wanted to remeber how things should be.
Whoa...
A pixy driving sixty from Bull City to Corpus Christi.
Scrawling out a postcard,
"Do you miss me, do you miss me?"
Why must she do it?
Is dying just the nature of the season?
I don't have a reason.
September was a good girl when she could be.
Whoa...
I wanted to remember how things should be.
Whoa...
September was as good as she could be.
Whoa...
September's gone but there'll be others,
Trust me.
Whoa...
Whoa...
Kissing off her allies with her poison lips - the trigger slips.
September was a good girl when she could be.
Whoa....
I wanted to remeber how things should be.
Whoa...
A pixy driving sixty from Bull City to Corpus Christi.
Scrawling out a postcard,
"Do you miss me, do you miss me?"
Why must she do it?
Is dying just the nature of the season?
I don't have a reason.
September was a good girl when she could be.
Whoa...
I wanted to remember how things should be.
Whoa...
September was as good as she could be.
Whoa...
September's gone but there'll be others,
Trust me.
Whoa...
Whoa...
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