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This flower is scorched
This film is on
On a maddening loop.
These clothes,
These clothes donīt fit us right
Iīm to blame
Itīs all the same
Itīs all the same
You come to me with a bone in your hand
You come to me with your hair curled tight
You come to me with positions
You come to me with excuses
Ducked out in a row
You wear me out
You wear me out
Weīve been through fake-a-breakdown
Self hurt
Plastics, collections
Self help, self pain,
EST, psychics, fuck all
I was central
I had control
I lost my head
I need this
I need this
A paper weight, junk garage
Winter rain, a honey pot
Crazy, all the lovers have been tagged.
A hotline, a wanted ad
Itīs crazy what you couldīve had
Itīs crazy what you couldīve had
Itīs crazy what you couldīve had
I need this
I need this