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I stopped watching from the first home We're gathering for a throne Taped up with a gold top Feather covered, We're combing over dead shots Forcing old hymns through a naked swim We're crawling up from the cold whims Tell me when you're out We're caught limping through the back door A fever twist, nothing more Death toll for a whistle blow The giant levers, stolen off the marrow Claiming tried friends with an empty tact Appeal enough and we fall back Tell me when you're out
Release Year
-
Genres
Electric
Pop
Moods
-
Vocals
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