| What happened to me? |
[Feb. 8th, 2006|07:38 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | apathetic | ] | He's got fasting black lungs Made of clove splintered shards They're the kind that will talk Through a wheezing of coughs And I hear him every night In every pore And every time he just makes me warm
Freeze without an answer Free from all the shame Must I hide Cause I'll never never sleep alone
Look at how they flock to him From an isle of open sores He knows that the taste is such Such to die for And I hear him every night On every street The scales that do slither Deliver me from... Freeze without an answer Free from all the shame Then I'll hide Cause I'll never never sleep alone
Oh lord Said I'm bloodshot for sure Pale runs the ghost Swollen on the shore every night in every pore The scales that do slither Deliver me from... Freeze without an answer Free from all the shame Then I'll hide Cause I'll never never sleep alone |
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