DeftonesLotionto come back, to put out bliss, but the style is crumbling, covered, canned. It was sick, and no you don't even know, how it comes, shifts then gets ruined, by you fucking slobs. But it's classical, anyways. Over and over, it sits stiff bound, with no heart, fine 'cause this is where the separation starts. Arising, I can see it, coming over your cloud. And it's classical, anyways. How cool are you, I remember. It makes me so sick. I feel sickened. Just a bad call, it's so funny, how you think i'm so serious, but that's not it. The thing is, I don't give enough, to give a fuck, you're just plain boring, and you bore me asleep. But it's classical, anyways. How cool are you, I remember. It makes me so sick. I feel sickened. And who the fuck are you, anyway ? You fuck. It's making sick, sense, seeing how you're sticking out hardly, and hoping money please. Arise up, off the fucking knees, and hop off the train, for a second and try to find, your own fucking heart. Index |
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