i am under any influence that is willing to twist its way up my spine
in time, in time, you will turn black like these cigarette ashes
oh, deliver me
with your eyes closed you lead me down the crooked path
the wolves catch my scent
should we run from here, oh no,
no, lay down
and while you are in her bed, redeeming yourself for fucking me,
i am cutting lines with the virgin mother from 8th street
but somewhow i find you crawling back up those steps to my door like a broken down christ bearing his cross .
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