| Somberly I sit alone watching while the city glows
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| Keeping to myself, walking on my tippy-toes
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| So silent but locked in with the witty prose
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| To propose as confident when talking to the pretty folks
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| And they’re so awkward in their videos
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| Lost within a spinning globe, nauseous and it’s getting old
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| Oh I can see it on their face I don’t get a lot of praise
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| I’ll bet I’ll posthumously get it though
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| So I can let it go go I guess
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| Ninety-nine percent of one-percenters don’t exist
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| I wine and dine with letters as a pleasure opiate
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| To bring my mind back to the center 'fore the medics open it
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| So here’s another piece of me forgotten and ignored
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| Another piece I sharpened with a sword
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| The apple of my eye, she was rotten to the core
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| So I left her in the trash where she belongs and I’ve long since ignored
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| I know there’s aphids in my chest to get
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| The butterflies I’m feeling when I strain to make the best of it
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| I run and hide to heal again from basic taste of death I’m getting
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| From the times of dealing with relationship-recklessness
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| And now I’m hiding in the night
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| Cause it’s a full moon and the lycans tend to bite
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| There’s lighting in between my eyelids and it’s frightening when it strikes
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| And it might get me blinded by the light
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| It’s so quiet in a sense, the silence just reflects
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| There’s a crisis in my head from the vices I possess
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| And the prices that I set on the diamonds I collect
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| Well I guess except one cause I hide it in my chest
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| Seven devils in my head saying they’re a friend
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| Seven devils in my head playing their pretend
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| Seven devils placing bets, seven devils made of flesh
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| Seven devils in my head craving for attention
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| Seven devils in my head making their amends
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| Seven devils in my head waiting for the end
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| Seven devils made a pledge, seven devils playing dead
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| Seven devils in my head saying they’re a friend
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| I always believe you why don’t you believe me
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| I got a desk full of papers left for the tapeworms
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| Breath full of Tanqueray left from the anger
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| Head full of anchors, bed full of strangers
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| That I think I met I forget what their names were
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| So I’ll smile while I grit my teeth
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| Dimethyltryptamine high I can get from dreams
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| Fine, I’ll show why I’m a different breed
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| Jim Morrison tip, I am the lizard king
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| It’s like A Clockwork Orange
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| Cody DeLarge show me your heart
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| A star is born okay
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| Pull me apart I can watch the gore and say
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| I’m showing your God what scars are for today
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| I write along right along a dotted line to write a poem
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| Cause I’ve been on a higher height of flight to fight the tiresome
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| I am just uninspired violent fired up
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| Carcass that’s been caught in constant carnage so don’t try to run
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| My eyes adjust in size when the light erupts
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| I like the touch smell taste and the sight of blood
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| What I don’t think that’s what I meant
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| So here’s a snow angel that I’ll leave in the cement
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| Let’s take a drink to the secrets that I kept
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| Just between us and another for the pieces that I left
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| In a sequence and I hoped that you would read it and it said
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| That there’s one too many of these fucking demons in my head |