Welcome to the last time
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that You can buy my answer with less than a question.
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I would sell the hands off my wrists if they weren't so preoccupied
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with taking the bread from Your fingers and downing this cheap New YearĄŻs wine
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that we call Your blood.
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And You can wait for midnight but my lips are sealed.
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And You can wait for midnight but my lips are sealed.
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In this garden I'm waiting anxiously
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for my children to come and murder me.
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In this crowded room, staring nervously lovers lick at their lips and wait for the kiss.
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I've been sharpening
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my teeth for this moment
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and I'll stab with my lips but You've already won
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Is there no resolution?
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Well, IĄŻll call these rafters my gallows,
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and strung up by day-old party streamers
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in the back of my mind I can see
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the merlot dripping from Your hands and feet.
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-----------------
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Curare On Your Lips
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After The Sirens |