| Well-paid Jesus, vicious nails by tired angels of mine
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| Fresh taste of first light when they do come down
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| Skin-deep memories of siren lullabies
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| Sealed from us from me from everything you go
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| Despair you tend to bring to me, to us, to everything with tide comes
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| Holy water, she’s breaking those waves
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| Holy water, she’s breathing those waves
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| The silence keeps her sane
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| Tainted sounds from haunted throats
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| Iron tears on satin sheets
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| Silver spoon and bread through pain
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| And then silent all those years
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| Ether eyes have never seen
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| Where dirty hands have never been
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| Sealed from us from me from everything you go
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| Despair you tend to bring to me, to us, to everything with tide comes
|
| Holy water, she’s breaking those waves
|
| Holy water, she’s breathing those waves
|
| The silence keeps her sane |