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Blaenavon (band)( Blaenavon )
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That's Your Lot
Elizabeth, you said we'd walk amongst the dead On Halloween But my make-up's making no one scream
I'm stapled to the ground You watch me squirming I'm an apathetic earthworm
Isabella, my child, your hips, they make me wild But I'm sure you'll understand That I'm part cloth and part man This collar makes me choke But I'd rather that than rope Or a trust fund I'm an apathetic eardrum
But it's so easy to be this sentimentally gifted I feel guilt's hot breath on my neck But I can't throw away, throw away The reminders of those brilliant days No kiss, no collapse If you think that it holds you back
Pity me, I beg you please I might not ask again next week Pity me, I beg you please I might not ask again next week Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com I'm an apathetic pipsqueak
But it's so easy to be this sentimentally gifted I feel guilt's hot breath on my neck It reeks of death But I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in luck I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love With the theory your father might be up above As the Lord
But I can't throw away The reminders of those brilliant days A stamp, a receipt If it feels like it keeps you here
It's only been three years It's only been three years It's only been three years It's only been three years It's only been three years It's only been three years It's only been three years And that's your lot
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