| Girl you ain’t better than the germs I spread
|
| Now I only gotta fix the fucking shape I’m in
|
| I’m sure it’s the seizures, I’m sure it’s the kiss
|
| Even as I make haste a drought takes the piss
|
| I was faceless today while you’ve been away
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| I was facelifts dusted to high heaven
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| In the mouth of the vulva, my shell-shocked routines
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| I’ll share blood with just about anybody
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| One Neilsen family at a time in a cardboard test site
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| And with her granite I am pills to eat
|
| Girl you ain’t better than the germs I spread
|
| Now I only gotta fix the fucking shape I’m in
|
| I’m sure it’s the seizures, I’m sure it’s the kiss
|
| Even as I make haste a drought takes the piss
|
| The laziest eye drops like cake in sand
|
| Right around high noon I’ll be lowered in the trap
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| Shards of welt avalanche bit down on foil and rash
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| I must be sedated by now
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| The same mistakes your mother made
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| Count me among those that still crave
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| I’ll bet he’s scared
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| And yet unaware
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| Of the Easter shadow
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| In his prison, a penance hibernates
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| Don’t keep me in vain
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| Don’t keep me at bay
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| The cleaner the guilt, the closer to fraud
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| The cleaner the high that foams at the mouth |