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Kill yourself slowly over time, fashion statement suicide, She's still asleep in a Chelsea hotel Bad turns to worse, and the worst turns into hell
You're sick, sick as all the Secrets that you deny Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide
I am the patron saint of lost causes Aren't we all to you just near lost causes Are we all to you just lost?
I wanna break every clock, The hands of time could never move again, We could stay in this moment for the rest of our lives, Is it over now?
