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letra de dead clichãƒâ© - street to nowhere

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i strayed from the kitchen that’s where we kept the knives
that could slice the tense air from clenched fists
i wasn’t partial to pain but i fled home everyday,
staring at the veins through the skin on my wrist
and in the morning when my throat burned like cuts and scr-pes
and salty dry eyes refused to wake
the only warmth were cold hands of a mother
she’d say “it’ll be ok”
i’d be no more than a dead clichã©,
a dead clichã©
a dead clichã©
with nothing to say
farewell notes are so p-ssã©
so shoot me in a gallery, we’ll call it art
you can critique the blood stain on the floor
why let my death go to waste, if i’m dying anyway
i might as well have something to die for
cause i’m breathing in dead air, i’m tugging at dead skin
i know that every road i walk is a dead end
and the papers would agree it’s the only fame i’ll see
cause all the greatest artists are insane. or dead.
i made a heart out of tape and wire
i painted it the color of crying eyes
i wore it on my sleeve
for the vultures to see
screamed
you’re born you learn you work decay and die

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