| That sweet little redhead’s got her hooks in my back
|
| She points her finger and she shows me what I lack
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| Her pale skin, it burns so hot in the midnight air
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| She paints the streets a shade of gray around my chair so come on in Her hot breath on my skin
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| Her scent on my fingers
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| Her taste is on my mind
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| It constantly lingers
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| 'Till I can breathe her
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| 'Till I can believe her
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| 'Till I can breathe her
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| 'Till I can leave her
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| Every kiss is a little sickening
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| I can feel Death’s fingers quickening
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| Tightening my passageways
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| If you can’t count the years
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| Start counting days
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| Try to remember that she hates you
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| And though she might elate you
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| She tries to kill the great that’s in you now
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| She’s hand picked the fate that awaits you now
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| And despite her words, it’s not too late
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| I wrote a Goddamn love song to praise everything I hate
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| And kids were wanting the chorus line
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| And they sealed my picture’s frame
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| She might run shit for right now but I’ll be damned if it’s forever and always
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| As the chorus-line fades away like friends in high-school hallways
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| Oh, I got this feeling
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| That things will never, ever, ever be the same
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| Things will never be the same
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| What about those rainy nights in London?
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| What about the crippling desert heat?
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| What about all those times you swore you’d never leave me?
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| What about the hospital in L.A.
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| You took me back after that night
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| What about that blackened image in my mind?
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| I swear I burn with a new light
|
| What about that frozen, dripping, holiday bird that’s cold
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| She’s cold as ice! |