| Can I cut you out of the frame?
|
| Can I throw the remnants in the lake?
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| 'Cause I never wanted to yell murder in your name
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| I just want to die without your photo drenched in shame
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| For I will never be the same
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| And cold blood always leaves a stain
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| And, oh, the lines they are so blue
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| And, oh, the coat of arms you threw
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| 'Cause I never wanted to slaughter your game
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| To go on pining for moon that only wanes
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| So take me out to the corn, my love, and
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| Splash the water till it turns into mud
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| For my blood is frozen from the absence of love
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| Oh, in the veins, a far haunting calls your name
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| To your soul’s body which you never knew you gave
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| Away in, into oblivion you threw
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| And his teeth have made a corpse of you
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| But you’ve come back with the clipped wings of the dove
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| And in this reverie, you’ve wrestled with your love
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| For my blood’s still frozen from the absence of love
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| So take the thorns out of me, my love
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| Patch them up with your wounded love
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| We’re all tied up, now undo what you’ve done
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| And into soundless, from your slaughter, I will run
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| Can I cut you out of the frame?
|
| Can I throw the remnants in the lake? |