| I love you and 'cause I do
|
| My skies have changed
|
| From gray to blue
|
| But blue’s not just
|
| A color of the rainbow
|
| It’s shade, is not a hazy hue
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| But pure and hard
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| My blue sky blue
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| It’s like a Roman candle
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| Coming rosebuds
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| My words are empty, hollow, bleating
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| Of a mental crutch
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| They’re open, festered, indigestion
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| With a velvet touch
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| A coma with a sweet aroma
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| Is my only dream
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| Malignant with the misconception
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| That a grunt can gleam
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| My lichen covered corpuscles
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| Are filthy as a fist
|
| Infection is my finest flower
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| Mildewed in the mist
|
| Infection is my finest flower
|
| Mildewed in the mist
|
| Infection, infection
|
| Infection, infection
|
| I love you and 'cause I do
|
| My skies have changed
|
| From gray to blue
|
| But blue’s not just
|
| A color of the rainbow |