| Honky-tonk devils glitter in
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| Like royal rats in kitten skin
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| And all the blondes drop their panties and cry
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| To the father’s first lullaby
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| So let me paint you with my love
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| With my love, with my love
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| To kill the man behind the crowd
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| Would be viewed as amateur
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| Because the king is invisible
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| The king is invisible
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| And death is a profession
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| So let me paint you with my love
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| With my love, with my love
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| It’s not a life sentence
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| But a death dream for you
|
| It’s not a life sentence
|
| But a death dream for you
|
| It’s not a life sentence
|
| But a death dream for you
|
| It’s not a life sentence
|
| But a death dream for you
|
| It’s not a life sentence
|
| But a death dream for you |