| Now is time to take recourse
|
| To drag my bones from 'neath his corpse
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| Retract the blade within his heart
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| Inscribe our initials in the bark
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| Of every tree in every woods
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| In ink red blood, can you imagine?
|
| While wearing his head as a hood
|
| I’d take life for a crime of passion
|
| Lies told, lies told, lies told, lies told
|
| Darling, if I had the choice
|
| I’d excavate his throat of voice
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| And corrugate his vocal chords
|
| To play a tune to please the Lord
|
| Make him recite this murder ballad
|
| A sombre tune told by a bore
|
| Pump blood around the limp and pallid
|
| Harmonising as you snored
|
| Lies told, lies told, lies told, lies told
|
| Lies told, lies told, lies told, lies told
|
| One day when I’m older, I’ll write it all down
|
| A portrait of the trequartista as a young man
|
| We all know we’re gonna die
|
| We’re a speck of dust in a bad god’s eye
|
| He rubs us clean, but love is blind
|
| A balloon artist kisses porcupine
|
| We all know we’re gonna die
|
| We’re a speck of dust in a bad god’s eye
|
| He rubs us clean, but love is blind
|
| A balloon artist kisses porcupine
|
| We all know we’re gonna die
|
| We’re a speck of dust in a bad god’s eye
|
| He rubs us clean, but love is blind
|
| A balloon artist kisses porcupine |