| Bad wind breathing in the streets tonight
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| A gunshot rhythm to a decomposing lullaby
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| I rest my head on the bosom of restless nights
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| Death is dining at our table
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| We feast on our nails
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| There’s a bullet with my name on
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| Waiting to exhale inside of me
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| There’s not alot of sympathy
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| With the life I’m leading
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| If only I could begin again
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| But I’m not surprised it’s the end
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| I feel helpless
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| I can’t help it if I don’t need a lullaby
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| We need a miracle
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| If this is where our hearts lie
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| Where is our home?
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| I rest my head on the bosom of little faith
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| Still we keep hanging on for a saint
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| Barking serenade of panic
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| The moon is wailing
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| Quench your thirst my son
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| Make sure you lick the knife clean
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| Inside of me my life will be an offering
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| To those that I have failed
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| There’s a bottle with my name on
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| And I’m waiting to inhale
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| I rest my head on the bosom of restless highs
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| I rest my head on broken promises |