| So cold, your icy fingers around my neck.
|
| You offer these rotten apples, begging me to taste and see.
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| I’ll take just one bite.
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| I know your coming like a bad dream when your demons fall to place,
|
| perverting all the answers.
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| Corrupting what’s inside you, believing everything, cut deeper to the core.
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| But we know what’s inside.
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| Go to bed, young dreamer.
|
| A prophet you’ll arise to call us out.
|
| Go to bed, young dreamer.
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| You tell of our decline, but you follow us down.
|
| (We know what’s inside)
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| The breathe of a fallen angel brings death if you breathe it in,
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| although you know what dwells inside.
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| To bite down, to chew, and to swallow.
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| To muscle it down to dissolve.
|
| Bed ridden, shivering fever.
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| Follow it down.
|
| Your icy fingers around my neck.
|
| Offering destruction, begging me to taste and see.
|
| So I take just one bite.
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| It’s the poison in your veins.
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| It’s the shiver down your spine.
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| Cut deeper to the core.
|
| But we know what’s inside.
|
| To bite down, to chew, and to swallow.
|
| To muscle it down to dissolve.
|
| Bed ridden, shivering fever.
|
| To follow it down.
|
| And we know you’ll bite down and you’ll follow us under the ground.
|
| Go to bed, young dreamer.
|
| A prophet you’ll arise to call us out.
|
| Go to bed, young dreamer.
|
| You tell of our decline, but you follow us down.
|
| (We know what’s inside) |