| I can’t run to you, father
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| I need love
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| I can’t talk to you, mother
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| I know it’s got you caught up
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| But your sweet sinless sensation is not my style
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| And I’m not givin' up
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| But tell me if I run away, how long will I bleed?
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| So, tell me if I run away, how long will I bleed?
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| Colors blend
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| They’re all black and white
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| Goddamn it, I cannot bend
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| I’m all shriveled inside
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| But your sweet sinless sensation is not my style
|
| And I’m not givin' up
|
| But tell me if I run away, how long will I bleed?
|
| So, tell me if I run away, how long will I bleed?
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| Ain’t no point in tryna pick me up when I’m down
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| Yeah, you can stick out your hand
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| And you can lean towards the ground
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| I’ll be tryna suck all of the liquid out the dirt
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| Tryna catch a curve, digging my own grave!
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| Ooh, mama
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| I’ll be tryna suck all of the liquid out the dirt
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| Tryna catch a curve, digging my own grave!
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| Ooh, mama
|
| But your sweet sinless sensation is not my style
|
| And I’m not givin' up
|
| But tell me if I run away, how long will I bleed?
|
| So, tell me if I run away, how long will I bleed? |