before you know i'm swept away watching my shadow eat off my plate and i went to sleep a shell of a man i woke up the same so i slept in again
before you know these days are gone a roman candle fired at dawn
it was accidentally discovered you had cold blood running through your veins when you cut your punch on a broken window and the blood froze like frost on the shattered pane
and you had a hunger growing inside you that only bloodlust could ever fulfill you extricated yourself to the jungle to try to temper that instinct to kill
bury deep in the hot hot sand a portrait of your mothe take those hands and kill that man standing in the mirror
you were raised as a wild wolf cub although it seems you sleep like a lamb you don't know what to do with her love it's like a live grenade in your hands
your father warned you about temptation and all the wicked women that it breeds but when you met her you knew live was over her damnation is what your body needs
bury deep in the hot hot sand a portrait of your mother take those hands and kill that man standing in the mirror
bury deep in the hot hot sand a portrait of your mother take those hands and kill that man standing in the mirror
bury deep in the hot hot sand a portrait of your mother take those hands and kill that man standing in the mirror
i was raised on wolves milk though it seems i sleep like a lamb and i was raised on wolves milk though it seems i sleep like a lamb
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Copy to Clipboard: before you know i'm swept away watching my shadow eat off my plate and i went to sleep a shell of a man i woke up the same so i slept in again
before you know these days are gone a roman candle fired at dawn
it was accidentally discovered you had cold blood running through your veins when you cut your punch on a broken window and the blood froze like frost on the shattered pane
and you had a hunger growing inside you that only bloodlust could ever fulfill you extricated yourself to the jungle to try to temper that instinct to kill
bury deep in the hot hot sand a portrait of your mothe take those hands and kill that man standing in the mirror
you were raised as a wild wolf cub although it seems you sleep like a lamb you don't know what to do with her love it's like a live grenade in your hands
your father warned you about temptation and all the wicked women that it breeds but when you met her you knew live was over her damnation is what your body needs
bury deep in the hot hot sand a portrait of your mother take those hands and kill that man standing in the mirror
bury deep in the hot hot sand a portrait of your mother take those hands and kill that man standing in the mirror
bury deep in the hot hot sand a portrait of your mother take those hands and kill that man standing in the mirror
i was raised on wolves milk though it seems i sleep like a lamb and i was raised on wolves milk though it seems i sleep like a lamb
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