It could be a deadbeat, a smooching kiss of death
Going
We started out as little kids believing things were hidden
Straight
I’m going to start a fight, it’s clinging to my
Now it's serious, but not so much belated,
Your face may
Even in buildings and still alleys, there is a sneaking
At their worst, their stares are a killing force
I go
Instrumental
The days are colored, the days are colored
Painted by numbers
I know what follows is a cavity of time
but the
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