| Sniffing glue from the whores tusk let the wax drip through the creases
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| Oil, dripped from the devils back?
|
| Stealing kisses from butterflies but perverts complete the sequence
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| Raw, cocaine filled up their hearts
|
| On Sunday nights they feast on blood before delicate poets release their lungs
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| Everytime It kills me, the oxes flesh rots on so slowly
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| Magnets in the pigeon feed, a devil inside the chamber breeds
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| Black daggers and sharper knives, the bees amass within their hives
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| A sharpened hand and a wooden glance? |
| We'll taste and scrape!
|
| A day in the death calls for you
|
| A day in the death speaks for you
|
| Yeah, would you give back to heart, I’m bored of promises, I’m cut to pieces
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| Yeah, would you grant me just one wish, its true we’ve sacrificed for the never
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| Christ
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| There’s something in the air, violins and burning blisters
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| A burning rash that sticks to the prince’s bitter features
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| Will the crow grant a second wish to its children?
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| If our politics are locked in foam?
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| Day I Die
|
| Day I Die
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| Without precious weapons we’d go far
|
| Back to when the world was just a star
|
| If we were the killer
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| The pressure would be more than I could feel
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| Day I Die
|
| Day I Die
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| The day I die
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| The day I die |