January, 2016
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Iāve got a book of matches Iāve got a can of…
Iāve got a book of matches Iāve got a can of kerosene
Iāve got some mad ideas involving you and me
I donāt blame you for walking away I touched myself at thoughts of flames
I shat the bed and laid there in it thinking of you wide awake for days
Wide awake for days
And I found you tongue-tied, my twisted little brain
You couldnāt crack a smile I didnāt catch your name
I donāt blame you for walking away Iād do the same if I saw me
I swear itās not contagious in four short steps we can erase this
Step one, slit my throat step two, play in my blood
Step three, cover me in dirty sheets and run laughing out of the house
Step four, stop off at Edge brook Creek and rinse your crimson hands
You took me hostage and made your demands
I couldnāt meet them so you cut off my fingers, one by one
One by one
Iām like a broken record Iāve got a needle scratching me
It injects the poison of alcohol I.V.
I donāt blame you for walking away Iād do the same if I saw me
I swear itās not contagious I swear to God itās not contagious
Step one, slit my throat step two, play in my blood
Step three, cover me in dirty sheets and run laughing out of the house
Step four, stop at Lake Michigan and rinse your crimson hands
You took me hostage and made your demands
I couldnāt meet them so you cut off my fingers, one by one
This could be love
(Love for fire)
This could be love
(Love for fire)
This could be love for fire for ever more
Step one, slit my throat step two, play in my blood
Step three, cover me in dirty sheets and run laughing out of the house
Step four, stop at Berkeley Marina and rinse your crimson hands
You took me hostage and made your demands
I couldnāt meet them so you cut off my fingers, one by one
One by one














D5 Creation