| Juliette your cigarette has burned right through your face
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| Through your skin and through your skull and up into your brain
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| It doesn’t seem that you will reach the fountain from where you are
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| And possibly this might just leave a really bad, bad scar
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| And you’re lying on the living room floor
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| Lying like you’ve done at least on hundrend times before
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| Burning with a radiant glow
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| Juliette the fire has crept down and your chest’s aflame
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| Smoldering an even ring around your torso frame
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| And moving slow the amber glow does flicker clear and clean
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| It’s as if someone has doused you in white gasoline
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| With your ashes on the living room floor
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| Scattered like they’ve been at least one hundred times before
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| Burning off a skin that you have come to abhor
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| And spreading now the crackling sound
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| Down to your hips and waist
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| Traveling past your legs at last a slow but steady pace
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| The smell of dead skin burning lingers sickly in the air
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| Oh Juliette oh Juliette you don’t look like you care
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| Though the smoldering has reached down to your knees
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| Moving down your shins over your ankles and your feet
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| Burning with a radiant glow
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| Swallowing devouring the tips of your toes |