| You say the vultures are calling for your last breath
|
| And the rhythm of your heartbeat stopped for no more pain
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| You’ll ask for death by name
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| Skin deep, solace in violence
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| Self-destructive catharsis
|
| We fan the flames on yourselves
|
| There’s no warmth in burning just ashes
|
| Try and clip your own wings before they can
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| Try and cope with a blood-soaked smile
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| There’s no warmth in burning just ashes
|
| We’re in a car crash and painfully aware of the motion
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| Covered in stains that will never wash away
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| Just reaching out for a sense of peace in the rain
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| Like reaching hands that never
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| Like reaching hands that never connect
|
| Like reaching hands
|
| Like reaching hands that never connect
|
| Like reaching hands that never connect
|
| Like reaching hands that never connect |