| The song is called the beast
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| It’s about. |
| feeling ugly
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| I’ve been whittling a niche a heart that’s made of wood
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| Is feeling pitiful and sick so I’m parting ways for good
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| A minimal intent’s on that could’ve would’ve should’ve
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| Try to look up high if I mistook the miserable events
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| I look up at the sky and I pry both my eyes open
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| So I can decide if it’s worth it just to try and
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| This is what it’s like when you fight all the nightmares
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| To try to find some light there and hold it all in my hands
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| And the parable is done ugly duckling swan dived into the barrel of a gun
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| I spent my afternoons alone to stare into the sun
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| To attract an opposite and go get married just for fun
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| Come undone predict another mental lapse
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| Screaming from the top of my lungs until the windows crack
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| Drinking all the vodka to hush all of my impulse that’s
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| Seeking for the optimal buzz to get my limbs detached
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| And I’m a part of all the lies
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| This she loves me not mentality makes gardens all divide
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| The particle I hide is the iron in my blood
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| I’ll set fire to the sun until the waterfalls are dry
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| Father son and holy ghost bottled rum and lonely folks
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| Dance within the lines so they can swallow some and Dosey Doe
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| I’m so alone I’ve been living in a vacant pit
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| Just another voodoo doll victim of relationships
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| I studied every single eyelash
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| On her little face and they look like venus flytraps
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| I always knew I’d meet a nice catch
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| I didn’t think that she would bite back
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| So please fail me now, you with the pitchfork hey bail me out
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| Man I act like a man-i-ac I just can’t fight back
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| When this greyscale surrounds me
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| You say hello there, I say it’s hell here
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| Look at my face to find trace of swell years
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| With my tongue in my cheek in spite of when I go to bite it
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| So the blood is released I try to
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| Look inside me when I summon the beast to fight him
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| So I guide him right under the sheets to hide it
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| It’s a violent thrill, rhythm of a silent film
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| Cycle of the moon when it’s hunt and release
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| I might’ve been sent to jail when I’m dead-set to fail
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| I felt it coming the death sentence braille
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| Misery loves comforting and best friends prevail
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| It’s The Beauty and the Beast it’s La Bete et la Belle
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| Please come and kill me with a bullet made of silver
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| Or a stake inside my chest so I can finally go to sleep
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| When these lovely feelings are so cold it makes me shiver
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| When it’s breaking my defense so don’t go crying over me
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| Then dream of another fortune that’s not average
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| Sing with a little forked tongue like a basilisk
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| These simple days of boredom are so cancerous
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| Seems like I might be sort of like a masochist
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| I’m so enamored by the swell marks
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| Breaking all the mirrors just to crawl out of my skin
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| I’m Ester Greenwood I’ve been trapped inside a Bell Jar
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| Believing all the speeches from a charlatan again
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| I got lectured on the matter
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| That my topics are myopic non-sequitur and scattered
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| He uses big words complex with all the patterns
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| But maybe it’s for me and not you
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| I formerly denounce my former self and form deformities
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| Conform to formations that were forced to form abnormally
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| Before I forfeit my fortress and forget my fortune
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| I’ll fortify so you can burn me at the stake
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| Tricyclics with an SSRI
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| Just might fix this mix of intense hard times
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| Light gets dim when I get this dark side
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| As time tic tic tics and excess stars die
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| Cause I’m a monster in the flesh
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| Being haunted by the topics that I conjure with my breath
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| This is how a death feels this is all that’s left
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| When there’s nowhere else to run and you’re caught inside the web
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| Of the beast
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| He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man |