| I’m a frog
|
| I croak in a pond of blood
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| She’s still a part of me
|
| I can feel those rust-licked fingers wriggling (moan)
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| This garden has been littered with pesticides
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| Red light, red light
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| I’m a poor boy!
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| Red light, red light
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| Is this heresy, heresy?
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| Must be heresy, heresy
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| The spots have the answers
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| They’re connected in gold
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| But I can’t even go outside
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| ‘Cause I don’t have the code
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| She knocked twice, aye
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| Hun, you gotta go
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| Hun, you gotta go outside of this contraption
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| No more action
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| Accidents, infractions
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| Doesn’t match up?
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| Oh, hey, I thought it would be easy!
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| You better forget her
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| She couldn’t die without reason
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| Go get an umbrella
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| ‘Cause it be raining hella' treason
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| She' deader than dead
|
| But p-p-p-p-p-p-please don’t go
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| We lost the race, it’s benign
|
| To walk the borderline of pain
|
| As the artist paints the dream
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| No safety belts tonight
|
| For it’s time to start the show!
|
| I’m running away from this quiet
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| These rotten parts stink better every day
|
| Every single person has a story they’re not telling
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| La la lala la!
|
| Guess it while you can
|
| ‘Cause all the girls around my block are soon to lose their heads!
|
| We lost the race, it’s benign
|
| To walk the borderline of pain
|
| As the artist paints the dream
|
| No safety belts tonight
|
| For it’s time to start the show!
|
| I’m running away from this quiet
|
| They think I’m crazy?
|
| We’ll prove them right, my friends
|
| We’ll break their bones and cut their throats
|
| Shove them under the bed
|
| You think I’m stupid?
|
| Let’s show what’s in our head
|
| I’ll break your bones, cut your throat
|
| Shove you under my bed!
|
| We lost the race, it’s benign
|
| To walk the borderline of pain
|
| As the artist paints the dream
|
| No safety belts tonight
|
| For it’s time to start the show!
|
| I’m running away from this quiet
|
| Red light, red light
|
| I’m a poor boy!
|
| Red light, red light
|
| This is heresy, heresy
|
| Heresy, heresy
|
| Red light, red light
|
| Red light, red light
|
| I’d like to think of it as a sunrise in Paris
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| But the rivers keep flowing with a red color |