| The seed of the apothecary, an heir to aided ends
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| She loves the sound they make as they expel
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| A breath, the soul from their chest
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| She laughs a little, but never makes a sound
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| She swears she’s offering you something savory (What lies she tells)
|
| So take a drink, her product’s number one (Right down the hatch)
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| And now, it seems, a smooth intoxication, well,
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| Just one drop is more than enough
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| She never dwells on penitence,
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| Advancing in a haze
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| A million men have reached an end,
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| A side effect of incompetence
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| She laughs a little, but never smiles
|
| She swears she’s offering you something savory (What lies she tells)
|
| So take a drink, her product’s number one (Right down the hatch)
|
| And now, it seems, a smooth intoxication, well,
|
| Just one drop is more than enough
|
| She has her superstitions
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| They’ve got their rational on call
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| (They never saw it coming, they never stood a chance)
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| Shes got a new tradition, involving ethylene glycol
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| (They never saw it coming, they never stood a chance)
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| She has no apprehension, habit sustains her wickedness
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| (They never saw it coming, they never stood a chance)
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| With the weight of the world on her shoulders, she
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| Don’t want none of the sins as they unfurl in her palms, in her palms
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| Take this bottle |