Mother puts angels in my room and gargoyles near my bed
to protect us from the crooked ones, oh the crooked ones
But there's no protecting me. so let me burn with my favorite smoke
Tilt the scales the astrology says there's no balance left no balance left.
So tie a brick to my ribs and toss them out and toss them, with all my future bad ideas and mistakes. There's no grace left here.
Casting Shadows on my former self's shadow.
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