| For the love, I’d fallen on
|
| In the swampy August dawn
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| What a mischief you would bring, young darling
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| When the onus is not all your own
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| When you’re up for it before you’ve grown
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| Woah-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh
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| From the faun forever gone
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| In the towers of your honeycomb
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| I’d a tore your hair out just to climb back, darling
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| When you’re filling out your only form
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| Can you tell that it’s just ceremon'?
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| Now you’ve added up to what you’re from
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| Woah-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh
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| Build your tether rain-out from your fragments
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| Break the sailor’s table on your sacrum
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| Fuck the fiercest fables, I’m with Hagen
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| For the love, comes the burning young
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| From the liver, sweating through your tongue
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| Well, you’re standing on my sternum
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| Don’t you climb down, darling
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| Oh, the sermons are the first to rest
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| Smoke on Sundays when you’re drunk and dressed
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| Out the hollows where the swallow nests
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| Woah-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh |