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letra de pills - silky psyche

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rusted doors and moldy walls
happiness in what she owns
three hundred square feet of hope
backed by a few perpetual loans

a quiet life, a roof of his own
safe and sound right down to the bone
an ashtray filled with innocent p-wns
a local king, on a paper throne

you must be so proud
a smiling face in the crowd
but nowhere to belong
feeling fat all day long

wondering if anybody cares
with sleeping pills and cigarettes
nowhere you feel you belong
just feeling fat all day long

men in a shiny blazers
making neat speeches
a fancy fundraiser
making you surrender
to the bigger picture
it always happеns so fast in a moment
in your tiny apartment
thinking loud feeling small
plastic dolls look sad in your eyе
thinking nothing and utterly nothing you are
saying your prayers
when you pulled over by a
f-cking police car!

and the bimbos all about the human nature
getting constantly bigger
that must cut a figure
all hail to the bubble fish stager
sneaky soft skinned unhappy gold digger

with the powers vested in me
no matter how big or small
i waste it, expectations like a wall
looking down at myself from above all
not my circus, not my monkeys, not my call

talking so fast, talking so tense
trying to say something
but still making no sense
i don’t complain
i’m thriving on fear and pain
my hard luck prevents me
from going insane
what you’ve taught you cannot unteach
too late for a change
freedom, a figure of speech
i claim i don’t blame your same lame game
in a variety of ways i learn how to play

feelings are meaningless
last day’s fun is today’s shame
resilience is my middle name
my achilles heel is just my clockwork brain
your f-ck ups feed me, no pain no gain

you must be so proud
a smiling face in the crowd
but nowhere to belong
feeling fat all day long

wondering if anybody cares
with sleeping pills and cigarettes
nowhere you feel you belong
just feeling fat all day long

you must be so proud
a smiling face in the crowd
but nowhere to belong
feeling fat all day long

rusted doors and moldy walls
happiness in what she owns
three hundred square feet of hope
backed by a few perpetual loans

a quiet life, a roof of his own
safe and sound right down to the bone
an ashtray filled with innocent p-wns
a local king, on a paper throne

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