| First daddy died, then Mikey died
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| Why am I so dead inside?
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| Maggots filled this head of mine
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| My tongue’s fly paper to catch the flies
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| I spit 'em out towards a wretched sky
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| Water tastes like insecticide
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| Watch it take out my sense of pride
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| It’s a genocide of my gentle side
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| They so surgical with their masks
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| So I murder all in my path
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| No merciful in my wrath
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| I am a monster I can never be altered
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| Burning the altars
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| Watch 'em all perch with the vultures
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| Eating away
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| One day they’ll all turn into sulfur
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| Dead in the head I was born like this, born like this
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| Dead in the head I was born like this, born like this
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| Dead in the head I was born like this, I was born like this
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| Dead in the head I was born like this
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| When they burned the bodies I smelled the smoke
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| From the hell below
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| Where they turned to zombies to sell their souls
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| To the highest bidder I’m high and bitter
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| In this crypt of mine no kryptonite
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| Just cryptic minds
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| Crimson-like when I draw the lines
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| A foggy life leaves me mystified
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| In this dream of mine full of Dramamine
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| Where I wanna sing but my screams are quiet
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| And my screams requite
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| Demons acquired
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| Deeming the choir all charlatans
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| Harlots in my audience
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| Watch the harlequins all get sawed to bits
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| Deadliness is next to godliness right?
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| Dead in the head I was born like this, I was born like this
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| Dead in the head I was born like this
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| Dead in the head I was born like this, I was born like this
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| Dead in the head I was born like this
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| Winter in Hell when the wind turns to hail
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| Hailed when they win, then wince when they fail
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| The wind in the sails all went to the sales
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| I’m assailing against them, scaling the fence with
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| Nails in the wrists, I’m impaled from the sales that they pitch
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| Which pales in comparison
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| Sinking again in the stale and the kitsch
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| Been drinking a fifth watching Tales From the Crypt
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| Yea I lift the bar
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| Never star-struck when I hit the stars
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| Never start something I can’t complete
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| These heavy hearts hung in a gallery
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| These gallows swing, these gallows swing
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| They feed us shit like a Salo scene
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| These gallows swing, these gallows swing
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| Sparrows sing like they’re caroling my god
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| They’re as spooky as ever
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| More than you could imagine
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| Beautiful black bruises intact
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| Tactile abuse induce ipecac
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| A funeral mass I won’t attend
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| I choose to be absent I don’t pretend
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| And I don’t believe in ghosts
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| But you could be that, yea, yea you could be that
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| (Spectres) Ghosts of themselves
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| But they chose it themselves
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| Made a home for the Hell
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| Keep my eyes low when I know they’re around
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| (Spectres) Ghosts of themselves
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| But they chose it themselves
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| Made a home for the Hell
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| Keep my eyes low when I know they’re around
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| (Spectres) Ghosts of themselves
|
| But they chose it themselves
|
| Made a home for the Hell
|
| Keep my eyes low when I know they’re around
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| (Spectres) Ghosts of themselves
|
| But they chose it themselves
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| Made a home for the Hell
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| Keep my eyes low when I know…
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| (Dead in the head I was born like this, I was born like this)
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| Ghosts all around me
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| Go away |