Do not blame me for the mat
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I'm in another life at the factory will fall f * scrap in fuel oil
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Offal of my soul, as in a galvanized basin
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And in this meat grinder of days, we will all go for sausage
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We rented cars, we rented filks
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We rented lives - yes, we roll on show-offs
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The head that has flown off is barely held on by bolts
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I broadcast live, after burning with shame
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We'll all go to servelat, we'll all go to carbonade
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I invite all animals to our meat processing plant
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And this shit will come to you - you won't need a lubricant
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This garbage will come to you, in a different way - not an option
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In the gleam of the tile, dad fiercely died
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Here you and all your kents that did not live to see the morning
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We'll drink so much brake fluid that we'll go blind forever
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Above us, angels, like flies, settle in black snow
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Settle with black snow, settle with black snow
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Crack so much brakes that it’s like you’re out of your mind
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After on the curb belly, black snow settle
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Yes, sleep right under the moonlight, brother, bye-bye
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Settle with black snow, settle with black snow
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Crack so much brakes that it’s like you’re out of your mind
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After on the curb belly, black snow settle
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Yes, sleep right under the moonlight, brother, bye-bye
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Our sky is a ceiling, our sky is a ceiling
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Sleep, brother, bye-bye, because tomorrow again at the factory
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Tomorrow we are back at the factory, tomorrow we are back at the factory
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Can you see the stars through the bottle? |
Our sky is the ceiling
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Reality, old man, poisons us, like a "newbie"
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We are sitting in a burning house with a deputy, drinking tea
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Then I'll cast myself a badge in a burning workshop
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Yes, filling my eyes, I'm stewing a bull on my tongue
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We rented cars, we rented flicks
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We rented lives, let's ride on a show-off
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The head that has flown off is barely held on by bolts
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I lead a crooked broadcast and never repent
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After all, I'm the Tin Woodman, I'm cold as brass knuckles
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There is no heart under the metal, plus I look like a former prisoner
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And so that at least in someone's heart something crunches like a snack
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I need to shoot a photoset in a pile of yellow leaves
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I am the Tin Woodman, I am cold as brass knuckles
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There is no heart under the metal, plus I look like a former prisoner
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But I want to please everyone, I want to please everyone so much
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But, damn, no one likes me, because black snow covers my soul
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Settle with black snow, settle with black snow
|
Crack so much brakes that it’s like you’re out of your mind
|
After on the curb belly, black snow settle
|
Yes, sleep right under the moonlight, brother, bye-bye
|
Settle with black snow, settle with black snow
|
Crack so much brakes that it’s like you’re out of your mind
|
After on the curb belly, black snow settle
|
Yes, sleep right under the moonlight, brother, bye-bye
|
Our sky is a ceiling, our sky is a ceiling
|
Sleep, brother, bye-bye, because tomorrow again at the factory
|
Tomorrow we are back at the factory, tomorrow we are back at the factory
|
Can you see the stars through the bottle? |
Our sky is the ceiling
|
Our sky is the ceiling
|
Our sky is the ceiling
|
Our sky is the ceiling
|
And only the sky is the ceiling |