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Les belles choses viennent de la plus triste des mains

Seamlessly savage In a race to be victims Drown out the morning And sleep while the moon's light Drink down your sadness Until your eyes fill with darkness And you’re blind to see Your miseries projected on a TV screen Now you shake all alone by the bathroom sink Hoping no to be seen While the mirrors fantasize themselves And they reflect what I expect to be honesty Well honestly they want to see you on your knees Drown in disparity Cause they get off to what you've lost No they don't care what is fair Cause' they love, when pains in the air So they can breathe it in And repeat it again Try and beat it To fall short again You’re seamlessly savage In a race to be victims Drown out the mourning And sleep in the moon light My sweet
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Written by
chad-a-dolezal
American
Published
Sep 29, 2011
Lines·Words
30·143
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