i'm unfolding little scraps of paper
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i'm dotting "i's" and crossing "t's"
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like a ghost you were the gardener
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that snuck in and planted seed
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decay
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your words acidic taste
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i'm unfolding little scraps of paper
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but i'll pluck you like a dead bug from my feet
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no more voices on the radio
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no more waiting by the telephone
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arrows aim to crack rib cages
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but your venom's weak in my blood
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your poison scabs, coagulated
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your hardest try is never enough
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decay
|
your words acidic taste
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i'm unfolding little scraps of paper
|
but i'll pluck you like a dead bug from my feet
|
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the tooth is rotten, yank it out
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your words are cancer in my mouth
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this captain's ship is going down
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The Teeth Collector
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Pretty Girls Make Graves |