The currency is
counterfeit.
The hand it plays, is
bluffing you, dear.
As the whitewash of
a fence.
Your town shall be
left red.
You'll look to the sky and
know why.
The currency is
counterfeit.
The hand it plays, is
bluffing you, dear.
As the whitewash of
a fence.
Your town shall be
left red.
You'll look to the sky and
know why.