Lyrics to Walkin' With Michael Douglas
Send a priest to save my soul. Forget it.
Send a doctor, take my pulse. Forget it.
Feelin' it to hard is the poison to the heart of a cynic
Redemption.
Now I'm waking to pains and shaking.
My guts are rotting out, I'm slurring my speeches.
For fun and forget you now.
Baptismal pool of my sleeping mouth.
I apologize for these transgressions.
Wish I could say that I learned my lesson but the bottle, she's calling
To this sickness that lives with me.
All these hungry, angry mouths, forgiven.
Silenced, belly-up for a round, forgiven.
Feelin' it to hard is the poison to the heart of a cynic
Redemption.
Regarding my wishes, washed me clean.
Ring me out over and over again.
Just promise to save my place in your disgrace.
A riot can start with fuck all abounds.
A measure of apathy so proud.
A promising son or a drunken sound.
Is the distance between you and I, so far?
So long to vitriol, the fuck you's the chain and ball.
Forget it. Forget it.
Forget it. Forget it.
Feelin' it to hard is the poison to the heart of a cynic
Redemption.
Feelin' it to hard is the poison to the heart of a cynic
Redemption.
A riot can start with fuck all abounds.
A measure of apathy so proud.
A promising son or a drunken sound.
Is the distance between you and I, so far?
Send a doctor, take my pulse. Forget it.
Feelin' it to hard is the poison to the heart of a cynic
Redemption.
Now I'm waking to pains and shaking.
My guts are rotting out, I'm slurring my speeches.
For fun and forget you now.
Baptismal pool of my sleeping mouth.
I apologize for these transgressions.
Wish I could say that I learned my lesson but the bottle, she's calling
To this sickness that lives with me.
All these hungry, angry mouths, forgiven.
Silenced, belly-up for a round, forgiven.
Feelin' it to hard is the poison to the heart of a cynic
Redemption.
Regarding my wishes, washed me clean.
Ring me out over and over again.
Just promise to save my place in your disgrace.
A riot can start with fuck all abounds.
A measure of apathy so proud.
A promising son or a drunken sound.
Is the distance between you and I, so far?
So long to vitriol, the fuck you's the chain and ball.
Forget it. Forget it.
Forget it. Forget it.
Feelin' it to hard is the poison to the heart of a cynic
Redemption.
Feelin' it to hard is the poison to the heart of a cynic
Redemption.
A riot can start with fuck all abounds.
A measure of apathy so proud.
A promising son or a drunken sound.
Is the distance between you and I, so far?
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