Think I'm proud to be your enemy Take your hands off of me You're worse than the thing that possessed me The way they should have been
Somehow you used ignorance for sense All concern rests with the dead
Starved to death in a waiting room Cheap concern and rosary beads Did not solve screaming needs
Think I'm proud to be your enemy Take your hands off of me You're worse than the thing that possessed me The way they should have been
Somehow you used ignorance for sense All concern rests with the dead
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