How dare you sing me those songs and give your blood to another bottle the next day. Thou shalt not wear your cross upon my spine.
Told me the lightning bolt came back in hopes you could birth my spark anew. Well I was summer and the spring it was you. You are The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot and I am out of ammunition. So pit fire to the wind and set this town ablaze. But know that I won't be waiting for another phase. Of tips n tricks and birthday hips. You split my insides in two yet forgot the scars I would chew. But I didn't bleed lesions, at least not for you. Always remember what my ligaments can do. But for now, I'm done running after you. Thank you number 747, for the colors in my tubes.
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There is a Good Lord who is true. He made me all red and gave you blue.
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