Lyrics to 665
Some butt-hurt awareness
my flesh is a breakfast
ideas like balloons
are impaled on the ceiling
we've nothing in common
her fist calls her "mister"
it's past insignificant
careworn and laid
665 Video:
my flesh is a breakfast
ideas like balloons
are impaled on the ceiling
we've nothing in common
her fist calls her "mister"
it's past insignificant
careworn and laid
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