You're all the fucking same.
|
Worthless,
|
And waiting for a savior that was there all along.
|
You're all the same poison.
|
With perfect lives and cruel intentions.
|
A trail of blood.
|
|
You've fucking built the skin.
|
|
Give the paper something to talk about.
|
Give the readers something to talk about.
|
Saylor Lake's got a mean howl.
|
Careful at night, better watch out!
|
|
Decorate her funeral with open wounds,
|
When the sorrow pours like water,
|
Down a cold and restless body.
|
Slowly flows a river;
|
In the river we will gaze.
|
|
Up the stairs, down the hall,
|
Into the bed she crawled.
|
To place a panicked phone call,
|
But she was struck in the head with a blunt object.
|
|
When everything's gone, it's quiet and we want nothing more.
|
|
-----------------
|
Saylor Lake
|
| Drop Dead, Gorgeous |
