Lyrics Sick - Sascha Paeth's Masters Of Ceremony

Sick

Prouder than a lion
But you whisper like a snake
Boasting like a peacock
Of the magic you can make
You’ve got your eye on a prize
To own my body and mind
And you know how to make me
Scream
Your love is sick
Your love is sick
Your eyes are kind
Your soul is kind
But your love makes me so sick!
Master with a silver tongue
Kiss me once again
Tell your pretty tales
So they come running to your defense
Sick
Your Love Is Sick
Touch me like i can’t say no
You think you know i wan’t it
Twist my words against me
Charm me with the blame again
Nobody left on my side
To see my pain every night
I love the way that you
Punish me
Your love is sick
Your love is sick
Your eyes are kind
Your soul is kind
But your love makes me so sick!
Master with a silver tongue
Kiss me once again
Tell your pretty tales
So they come running to your defense
Sick
Your Love Is Sick
(So sick)
I know what you are
You can’t hide behind your lies
My eyes are open
Heart is broken
Now
I let this go to far
Gave your reign over my life
You saw yourself inside me
Now I’ll be the nemesis
To your narcissus
And hang you out to dry
Your love is sick
Your love is sick
Your eyes are kind
Your soul is kind
But your love makes me so sick!
Master with a silver tongue
Kiss me once again
Tell your pretty tales
So they come running to your defense
Sick
Your Love Is Sick!