| There is a bird of my sin on the windowsill
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| Crashing up against my shelter
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| I hate the hollowed out bones and they fracture
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| The stranger tells me back down
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| The sparrow follows the thread
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| I try to remain untangled
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| I feel the leach in my throat
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| I’m holding it up to a blue flame
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| Close the deck on the parasite
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| Cut the cards and blow out the flame
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| Follow the thread to the other side
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| There is blood in the remedy
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| There is blood in the remedy
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| And this where I cut my teeth
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| To fix the broken thing in me
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| If there’s a shadow underneath
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| The phantom is the fallacy
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| The oil is separate
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| It covers against the blue flame
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| My words are now useless
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| Crushing me under the weight
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| The stranger tells me it’s over
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| Look at the burns on your finger tips
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| Repetition is dead
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| Looking for proof in the chrysalis
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| And now you’ve rendered me voiceless
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| Sparrow bones
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| And my wings clipped
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| I know there’s blood in the oil
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| Close the deck
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| Cut my teeth
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| The phantom is a fallacy
|
| The sparrow follows the thread
|
| I try to remain untangled
|
| Now I feel the leach in my throat
|
| I’m holding it up to a blue flame
|
| The oil is separate
|
| It covers against the blue flame
|
| My repetition is dead
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| Looking for proof in the chrysalis
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| Bird of sin on my windowsill
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| Brushing up against my shelter
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| Hollow bones and they fracture
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| Drag me down and I suffer
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| The leaches down my throat
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| I’m trying to take my hold onto the blue flame
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| Cut the parasite |