lyrics
it's so innate
settling into your old ways
open mouths at these heights make your joints weak
eyes dialated
it's overrated
true grasping hands
forfeits talking
when they need a drink
studying scandals keep brides sober
bad booze rots our young guts
foolish girls who had thought
growing vines inside would be fine
and they died
when you ask yourself why
and you figure it out
it's not what you thought
I guess it's been a long time coming
why don't you come over to my house
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