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Divided he stands, inhuman to the core |
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He lashes away at life 'cause he feels he deserves a little more |
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Than the ordinary every day caged angels and freaks |
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Listen in his voice when he speaks |
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Hear it like the anger in the roar of the thundering storm cloud |
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But wicked is the weather that continues to rain down upon him |
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Light watered on him in a bad way and all that that hate is doing to me |
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And now he sits in the dead of the night thinking of two ways to die |
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But he can't get it right, he's still alive |
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Killer by design, he took the long road home |
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But the road was closed, no way home |
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I supposeOn the last hunt for the youth and the runaways |
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Killed his blood relatives and then murdered his first grades |
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Long gone, any moments when the heart is suppose to beat |
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And there's no one home behind the walls of vacancy of his mind |
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No matter what they do to me, no matter what they say |
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I can't do right, |
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I always go the other way |
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They can't reach me, |
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I refuse to reason |
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I am lost in my wicked mind and it's killing season |
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It's been a wash ever since he was born |
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And so he sits at home alone |
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Just trying to weather the storm |
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Hoping that the clouds will quit taking the form |
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Of a demon or a devil or an angel free fall |
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He's like the spawn of a million hated souls |
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In a downward spiral so out of control |
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He lost the battle of life and couldn't have any kids with his wife |
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And so he fucked her with a butcher knife |
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There's nothing left but he stays alive to spite |
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All the people that just wish he was down by sunlight |
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But he ain't going nowhere until they're coming to get him |
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So it's better to forget and just act like you never met him |
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If the chance comes, walk on the other side of the street |
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Because he just might be the last man you ever meet |
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And if you let him he would do some of the evilest deeds |
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And let your mind wander just for a second and you can see |
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No matter what they do to me, no matter what they say |
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I can't do right, |
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I always go the other way |
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They can't reach me, |
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I refuse to reason |
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I am lost in my wicked mind and it's killing season |
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Confused she is given this little gift of life corrupted inside |
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Trackted by every guy she bites |
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Every force in her path she feels wrong |
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But inside insinuation couldn't be more wrong |
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She presses on through the world every day with more rage |
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And the day is like a book and it's written across her face |
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And the anger in her voice when she's letting the demons speak |
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In a fit with herself after words of her being weak, losing control |
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Tied to whatever little soul she retains |
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Minusing all of the portions she gave away |
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To this point everything in her life has been pointless |
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She's well in tune with feeling of disappointments |
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She killed her true self back in the day |
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And have never been the same since that selfish rage |
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Long gone, any moments when the heart is suppose to beat |
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And there's no one home behind the walls of vacancy of her mind |
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No matter what they do to me, no matter what they say |
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I can't do right, |
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I always go the other way |
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They can't reach me, |
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I refuse to reason |
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I am lost in my wicked mind and it's killing season |