| She’s a still thrill of suicide they say,
|
| Cyanide in her plastic veins
|
| She’s a mannequin of misery,
|
| She’s on a bender,
|
| But she ain’t gonna break.
|
| Hey, Hey.
|
| Taste like sugar, but it’s novacaine.
|
| She’s climbing diesels,
|
| She can sharpen the pain
|
| White lights, Train wreck.
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| Black lips, Pale Eyes
|
| Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide.
|
| She’s a killer,
|
| She is mine,
|
| Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide.
|
| Straight nine (?)
|
| Cerebellum feeds the brain,
|
| Hurricane and a violent rage.
|
| They say,
|
| She’s a looker just like Anna Nicole.
|
| Oh, no.
|
| Fuck the silver,
|
| Let’s go straight for the gold.
|
| Hey, hey
|
| Digging deeper than a six foot hole,
|
| She’s snorting cocaine through a suicide note.
|
| White light. |
| Train wreck.
|
| Black lips, Pale Eyes
|
| Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide.
|
| She’s a killer,
|
| She is mine,
|
| Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide.
|
| White lights. |
| Train wreck.
|
| Black lips, Pale Eyes
|
| Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide.
|
| She’s a killer,
|
| Not my,
|
| Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide.
|
| Black lips, Pale Eyes
|
| Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide.
|
| She’s a zero,
|
| What about now?
|
| Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide. |