| She’s the fiend stripping away the layers
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| of a skin that is dead
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| You’re the rapist laying around just a pattern in a pool of red
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| Threading her needle, tanning your hide
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| you’re no longer just a waste of skin
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| You’re face down on the ironing board
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| when she puts the last stitches in HEMLINE!!!
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| She’s the butcher hacking away at your flesh
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| and you’re still alive
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| You’re the pedophile screaming for help
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| but nobody can hear your cries
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| Boiling your bones, frying your rind you’re no longer
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| just a waste of skin
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| Your rump roast is on the butcher’s block when she
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| puts the last stitches in HEMLINE!!!
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| SHE’S WEARING YOU WELL!!!
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| YOU’RE NOT A WASTE OF SKIN!!!
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| HEMLINE!!! |