...But You Are Vast

Crime In Stereo

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    You're no good for me
    My formulated drug an acquired taste
    awaits to sate this unrequited love
    It tastes so gray, yet necessary to sustain frustration
    Take just enough to get you fucked up
    Not so much that it drives you away

    A constant escape
    The magnificent restraint that it takes to stay away
    I've no control at all
    I constantly dream
    The memories invade the things I keep with me
    I'm getting high on the roof of the world

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    You're no good for me [x2]

    (You're no good for me) You are the bent and blackened spoon.
    You are the butane. You are the bedroom.
    (You're no good for me) You are the improbable excuse
    for the horrible things that I do.

    You're no good for me, but I guess not bad enough.
    And on quiet nights I come to find you crawling through my kick drum
    Hell bent on deliverance of all the privileges
    of being with you, Heaven sent I crane my neck
    To watch you desperately march down my chest, enjoying every step.
    Emphasized by distances we never intended.
    You come crawling back through my regrets to remind me what you said...
    "We're no good at this."

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