36 lines
1.0 KiB
Plaintext
36 lines
1.0 KiB
Plaintext
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No sleep, your countenance fallen
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Turned white as a sheet in the face of the rain grown colder
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The wallflower waltzin',
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The locomotive crawlin'
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Blood on the wheels where the rust don’t stain
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Your self-chosen cure is your self-chosen pain
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No time to ride on the back of a beast such as suicide
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Johnny, come lately,
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The black light suits you baby
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Too sweet, it’s there for the killing
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Lyin' there at your feet, but the face in the mirror's grown older
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A bell’s distant ringin', the scorpion stingin'
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Wheel's making noise, but your mind don’t care
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The world's screaming in like you're not even there
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You slide, inside
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To the back of a train they call "suicide"
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Johnny, come lately,
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You know the black light suits you baby
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You slide, inside
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To the back of a train they call "suicide"
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Johnny, come lately,
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You know the black light suits you baby
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No time to ride on the back of a beast such as suicide
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Johnny, come lately,
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You know the black light suits you baby
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________________
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Name Locomotive
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Artist Mad Season
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Album Above
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