| Like a poisoned apple
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| A little taste of her is sweet but deadly
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| Her carriage leaves
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| Before the midnight hour and then she fades away
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| A crown of thorns he wears to override
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| The lightness of their whining
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| Down to delirium
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| He finds this way to crawl once every other day
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| Empty now I feel, even when I should be full of myself
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| I’m addicted to the misery that rots inside
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| Scary, cold as the freezing snow, this is how you might consider me
|
| So open up your heart and come to the other side
|
| Bring black roses for the wicked one
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| He can dominate the pain
|
| As she ravages his love with sorrow
|
| Midian is where they’ll spend their quarantine
|
| Among the other freaks
|
| Empty now I feel, even when I should be full of myself
|
| I’m addicted to the misery that rots inside
|
| Scary, cold as the freezing snow, this is how you might consider me
|
| So open up your heart and come to the other side
|
| Bring black roses for the wicked one
|
| I wasn’t made for loving you, 'cause I belong to this stormy night
|
| Of laudanum, of sulphur, blood and a touch of death
|
| Bring black roses for the wicked one
|
| Don’t waste away all your sympathy
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| On a fallen soul like me
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| There are not such things as miracles
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| Pain will always stand by me
|
| Someday someway you will get to see
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| There’s no haughtiness in me
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| No redemption and no deliverance
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| So get the hell away from me
|
| Scary, cold as the freezing snow, this is how you might consider me
|
| So open up your heart and come to the other side
|
| Bring black roses for the wicked one |