| When you leave the nights on
|
| contagions bind your doublespeak
|
| Malice tends to choke my father’s grip
|
| but his hands are always clean
|
| Walk towards the light
|
| karmaless, your fetish in me
|
| You make me older
|
| swatting flies in the vaseline
|
| And I’m not getting any better
|
| in this plot of dormant wakes
|
| thorns decipher speak serrated
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| from the figure of an eight
|
| That’s when I disconnect from you
|
| That’s when I disconnect from you
|
| That’s when I disconnect from you
|
| That’s when I disconnect
|
| No turning back now
|
| too many shovels past the rubicon
|
| Must I desecrate it?
|
| Why can’t you tell me where you’ve gone?
|
| Christened to die
|
| paranoia has hoax and device
|
| Just when I find out
|
| Moira draws the moth to fire
|
| When the moon has burned the spirits
|
| across the stem of higher self
|
| You will hardly ever hear it
|
| because the moon will always fail
|
| That’s when I disconnect from you
|
| That’s when I disconnect from you
|
| That’s when I disconnect from you
|
| That’s when I disconnect
|
| I am a landmine, I am a landmine
|
| so don’t just step on me, so don’t just step on me
|
| Cause I’m a landmine, cause I’m a landmine
|
| and I can blossom in the petals of an ECT
|
| That’s when I disconnect from you
|
| That’s when I disconnect, disconnect from
|
| That’s when I disconnect from you
|
| That’s when I disconnect, disconnect from |