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We cut our teeth in the bedroom |
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We slit our wrists in our costumes |
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All of them witches, witches, witches, witches |
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We are the death of the party |
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We are the life of the funeral |
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All of us ragmen, ragmen, ragmen, ragmen |
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I want the ripened fruit |
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I want the fresh meat |
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I want the first born |
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I want the down beat |
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We traded vows on the front line |
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They ushered us through the stop sign |
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All of them witches, witches, witches, witches |
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We found our way in the blackout |
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We are the ghosts in the lighthouse |
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All of us ragmen, ragmen, ragmen, ragmen |
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I want the open wound |
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I want the dark street |
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I want the virgin blood |
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I want the wet heat |